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“HE HELD HIS BREATH” 

—Page 213 


PETER’S 

ADVENTURES IN 
MEADOWLAND 


FROM THE SPIDER’S PARLOR 
TO THE DIGGER WASP’S DEN 

BY 

FLORENCE SMITH VINCENT 

M 

WITH NUMEROUS BLACK-AND-WHITE ILLUSTRATIONS BY 

HARRY COULTAUS 




NEW YORK 

FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS 


V 




Copyright , 1920 , by 
Frederick A. Stokes Company 


All rights reserved, including that of translation 
into foreign languages, including 
the Scandinavian 


At 



Y 



r * 


CONTENTS 







CHAPTER * PAGE 

I When the Tree Talked i 

II The Old Man of the Meadow . 4 

III The House Like a Wheel 7 

IV Up the Lacy Ladder 9 

V Queer Legs and a Kingly Coat .... 12 

VI Mrs. Spider Speaks Her Mind .... 14 

VII The House Hunters 17 

VIII A Fall in the Dark 20 

IX At the End of the Passage 22 

X Make Way for the Queen 25 

XI On Trial in Beeville 27 

XII Bee Justice : 30 

XIII Dawdler the Dude 32 

XIV . A Call to Arms 34 

XV Dawdler Turns Doctor 37 

XVI The Invaders 40 

XVII To the Rescue 43 

XVIII Telling Time in Beeville 45 

XIX Hail to the Hero! 48 

XX The Queen Thanks Peter 50 

XXI The Banquet of the Bees 53 

XXII A New Queen Comes to Court .... 55 

XXIII A Fight to the Finish 57 

XXIV The Old Order Changes 59 

XXV A Royal Wedding 61 

XXVI A Happy Reunion 63 


IX 


X 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

• XXVII 

Taken Prisoners . 


PAGE 

65 

XXVIII 

The New Kingdom 


67 

XXIX 

Dawdler Calls upon His Cousins 


69 

XXX 

Under the Toadstool Parasol 


72 

XXXI 

Mr. and Mrs. Walking Stick . 


75 

XXXII 

Uncle Praying Mantis Arrives . 


78 

XXXIII 

Peter Meets an Old Friend’s Brother 


80 

XXXIV 

The Cheery Crickets . 


82 

XXXV 

Chirper Proves Himself Clever . 


84 

XXXVI 

Dr. Dawdler to the Rescue . 


86 

XXXVII 

Fiddler Learns a Lesson « 


88 

XXXVIII 

In the Flower Garden ..... 


90 

XXXIX 

Friendly Rivals 


92 

XL 

Gay Sir Butterfly , 


94 

XLI 

Flower Clocks . 


97 

XLII 

A Butterfly Steed . 


99 

XLI 1 1 

The Gathering of the Clans . 


102 

XLIV 

The Butterfly Ball 


104 

XLV 

After the Ball ....... 


106 

XLVI 

Under the Weeping Willow . 


109 

XL VI I 

Cousin Moth Comes upon the Scene 


hi 

XLVI 1 1 

The Council Meeting .... 


114 

XLIX 

The Honorable Mrs. Silkworm . 


116 

L 

The Caterpillar Parade .... 


119 

LI 

Wasp-Moth and Death’s Head Tell Their 



Tales 


121 

LII 

The Cradle in the Mulberry Tree 


124 

LIII 

Fliers of the Night 


126 

LIV 

The Moon Moth Express .... 


128 

LV 

Caught in the Net 


130 

LVI 

The Light Worshipers 


132 



CONTENTS 




xi 

CHAPTER 





PAGE 

LVII 

An Early Caller 




134 

LVIII 

Peter Runs into a Trap . 

• • 



135 

LIX 

Grass-Green Frees the Captive . 



137 

LX 

Buried Alive! 




140 

LXI 

Mrs. Rose Beetle Escapes 

• • 



143 

LXII 

The Beetle Band 

• • 



145 

LXIII 

Off to the Hunt 

0 • 



147 

LXIV 

Left Behind . 

o • 



149 

LXV 

Mistaken for the Enemy . 

0 • 



1 5i 

LXVI 

Peter Pulls the House Down 



153 

LXVII 

The Gun Beetle Tribe 

• • 



155 

LXVI 1 1 

What Happened Under the 

Stone 



157 

LXIX 

The Warning „ 

• 0 



159 

LXX 

Trench Warfare . 

• • 



161 

LXXI 

Over the Top . 

• • 



163 

LXXII 

A Clever Camouflage . 




1 6S 

LXXI 1 1 

The Gas Attack . 




I67 

LXXIV 

A Flag of Truce 

• • 



169 

LXXV 

The Peace Conference . 




171 

LXXVI 

Biffer Shocks His Family . 

• • 



173 

LXX VI I 

Biffer Gets His Own Way 

• • 



175 

LXXVI 1 1 

Boy and Beetle Go Adventuring 



1 77 

LXXIX 

The Holes in the Ground 

• • 



179 

LXXX 

Beetle Magic 




181 

LXXXI 

Underground Tigers 

• • 



184 

LXXXII 

Mother Tiger Beetle Warns Her Bab 

IES 

186 

LXXXI 1 1 

In Hiding 




188 

LXXXIV 

Biffer Tricks Mr. Insect Hunter 



190 

LXXXV 

The Foolish Little Tiger Grub . 



192 

LXXXVI 

The Mysterious Rap 

• • 



195 

LXXXVII 

Peter Aids Aunt Death Watch . 

• 

• 

197 


Xll 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

LXXXVIII How Uncle Death Watch Got His Name ; 199 

LXXXIX Cousin Sexton Beetle Flies upon the 

Scene 201 

XC An Unpopular Member of the Family . 203 

XCI Disagreeable in Spite of Himself . . 205 

XCII The Little Grave Digger .... 207 

XCIII Biffer Confesses His Folly .... 209 

XCIV The Blundepbuss of the Family . . 21 1 

XCV Rolling Down the Hill 212 

XCVI Mrs. Tumble Beetle’s Tale .... 214 

XCVII A Crest-Fallen Culprit 216 

XCVIII The Marble on Legs 218 

XCIX True to Her Name 220 

C Buried Treasures 222 

Cl Snapper Arrives in Good Time . . . 224 

CII An Acrobat of the Beetle Tribe . . 226 

/ 

CIII Snapper Almost Steps upon His Cousin 228 
CIV Lizard-Beetle Speaks for Himself . . 230 

CV A Self-Confessed Cannibal .... 233 

CVI On Duty 234 

CVII One Soldier Against a Regiment . . 236 

CVIII A Hard-Won Victory ...... 238 

CIX A Stranger Arrives by Air Route . . 240 

CX The Dragon With Two Thousand Eyes . 242 

CXI Chinaman Caterpillar Eats His Own 

Clothes 244 

CXI I But Katy Didn’t . 246 

CXIII A Wee Weather Prophet . 0 247 

CXIV Travelers in the Sky . 249 

CXV Hidden in the Rushes ... 0 . 251 

CXVI The Two Brothers . „ „ 253 


CONTENTS xiii 

CHAPTER p AGE 

CXVII A Short Life But a Merry One . . 255 

CXVIII The Monster in the Pool .... 257 

CXIX The Hungry Shark 259 

CXX The Struggle in the Reeds . . . 261 

CXXI A Quick-Change Artist 264 

CXXII A Boastful Challenge 266 

CXXIII Coaching His Cousin 268 

CXXIV The Child of a Day 271 

CXXV May Fly Keeps Her Word .... 273 

CXXVI Peter’s Cap Comes Back 275 

CXXVII May Fly Ghosts 277 

CXXVIII Fifty Eggs in One Bag 279 

CXXIX The Floating Cradle 281 

CXXX The Bully Receives a Scare . . . 282 

CXXXI Tricked! 285 

CXXXII By the Light of the Moon .... 288 

CXXXIII Up to Her Old Tricks 290 

CXXXIV Following in Mother’s Footsteps . . 292 

CXXXV Going It Alone 294 

CXXXVI The Watchman 296 

CXXXVII Nobody Home 297 

CXXXVIII The Bird Who Would A-Stealing Go . 299 

CXXXIX A Seeker After Sawdust .... 301 

CXL Bringing Home the Honey .... 303 

CXLI Twelve Little Closets 305 

CXLII Carpenter Bee’s Cradle Song . . . 306 

CXLIII Leaving an Old Friend for a New . 308 

CXLIV The Hanging House 310 

CXLV Cordial Mrs. Rust Red 312 

CXLVI Upside Down 3 r 4 

CXLVII A Dutiful Daughter 315 


XIV 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

CXLVIII 

CXLIX 

CL 

CLI 

CLII 

CLIII 

CLIV 


Through the Wax Door 
A Queer Way of Loving 
Taking the Hint from the Hornet 

A Word in Time 

Digger Wasp Weaves a Spell . 

The Shock That Settled Spider . 
All for the Sake of the Children . 


PAGE 

. 3i7 

. 3i9 

. 3 21 

. 3 2 3 

. 3 2 4 

. 326 

. 328 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


“He held his breath” . Frontispiece 

PAGE 

“ Something squeaked at his feet” 3 

‘Much you know about me’ ” 6 

‘But you were making fun of us’ ” 23 

“She asked who he was and why he was there” ... 26 

“ ‘She appointed me his chief guide and advisor’ ” . . 39 

“ ‘Accept the thanks of my people for all you have done’ ” 52 

“The second voice seemed to come right out of them” . 74 
“He bent from the stem and surveyed his figure in a leaf” . 76 

“Then they gather pollen at one blossom and give it to 
another blossom” 96 

“ ‘I am so glad you know how to protect yourselves’ ” . 101 

“Peter had rather, a hard time of it trying to drink from 
the buttercup’s bowl” 108 

“Flying through the air” 112 

“ ‘A little less noise, if you please’ ” 118 

“But nobody except Peter paid the least attention to him” 123 

“ ‘Here is my claw upon it’ 139 

“ ‘Jump on my back, we have not far to go’ ”... 142 

“ ‘You tried to pull the roof right off our house’ ” . . 156 

“The boy thought Mrs. Rose was quite certain to be 

fooled” 160 

“ ‘But you watch those holes very closely’ .... 180 

“Before Peter’s astonished eyes” 183 

“ ‘I am sure he did not notice me’ ” 191 

“ ‘Oh my baby, my poor foolish baby!’ ” 194 

XV 


XVI 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 


‘Just eating a few blackberries, my friend/ replied 


“His wife and Biffer followed him to the underground 
dining-room” 208 

‘But after all, you really cannot blame Boy much/ 

cried Snapper” 231 

“Suddenly it cracked open right down the back” . . . 245 
“With a suddenness that made the boy’s head swim” . . 250 

“He saw the monster repeat his catch” 258 

“At last he let go of the pupa-case” 263 

“And it was just in time, too” 284 

“ ‘So he never sees me until I fall “ ker-boom . . . 287 

“ ‘I am the greatest paper manufacturer among the little 
people’ ” 302 


PETER’S ADVENTURES IN 
MEADOWLAND 



PETER'S ADVENTURES IN 
MEADOWLAND 


I 

WHEN THE TREE TALKED 

A WAY out in the country, near a merry brook that 
danced and sang all day long, was an old brown 
farm house; and there just beyond the brook was a 
meadow where brown-eyed cows stood knee-deep in 
the grass, and next to this was a field full of yellow 
wheat. And here in the old brown farm house lived a 
little boy named Peter. He felt that he would have been 
the happiest little boy in the whole world if only he 
had had some one to play with. For Peter lived all alone 
with his father and mother. 

In the woods nearby stood a great oak. Peter called 
it his Wishing Tree. On days when he felt particularly 
lonely, he would sit under its branches and wish with 
all his might for a playmate. 

One morning when he was out there along caime 
his father with a sharp ax. 

“Run along, |son,” he said when he saw his boy, 
“and find another playground. This oak will make fine 
firewood for next winter, so I am going to cut it down,” 
and he lifted his ax for the first blow. But before it fell 
Peter cried: 

“Oh, father, please don’t hurt it! It is my very best 
friend. Let me keep it for my very own.” 

His father, who was very fond of his little son, laughed 
and said, 


2 PETER'S ADVENTURES 

“All right, my boy, it is yours. One tree is as good 
to me as another and its logs will burn iust as well in 
our grate,” and off he went to look for another oak. 

Then Peter flung his arms as far around the tree as 
they would reach and pressed his face against its bark. 

“Hurrah! Hurrah! I am so glad that you are safe, 
dear tree!” he cried, and at that very moment he heard 
what seemed to be a faint voice whispering. At first 
he thought it was the wind among the leaves, but as he 
listened he heard these words very clearly: 

“Peter, I am the spirit of the oak whose life you 
have saved, and I am grateful and will repay you. From 
this minute you shall understand the language of all 
living things. Whenever you say the magic words 
‘Watch’ — ‘Listen’ — you shall grow tiny like the little 
folk of the outdoor world and become their friend.” 

The boy was very happy to have the tree speak to 
him, but he was so surprised that he nearly fell over 
backwards. 

“Why, I didn’t know that you could speak, Mr. Tree,” 
cried he. “Here we have been friends for such a long 
time and I never even guessed it. Why haven’t you ever 
talked to me before?” 

“Every day that you have played beneath my branches 
I have tried to talk to you, to tell you how you could 
make playmates of the outdoor folk, but you would not 
listen,” sighed the gentle voice. “You would not under- 
stand.” 

“That is queer,” said the boy slowly. “I can hear 
you now quite plainly and I don’t feel one bit different 
to-day from what I did yesterday. Can I always under- 
stand you now?” He waited anxiously to hear what 
the tree would say; but when it answered him he was a 
little bit ashamed of himself and hung his head. 

“Until to-day, Peter,” whispered the tree, “you have 
thought only of yourself and of how lonely you were 
without any little boy or girl to play with, and when I 
tried to tell you how sorry I was, you did not hear me 
because you would not listen. But just now your thought 


IN MEADOWLAND 3 

was of me; and because it was, you could hear and under- 
stand me. Everything has a voice, if only people will 
listen.” 

“I will never be so stupid again,” declared Peter, 
“nor so selfish. What fun we can have together now, 
you and I and the little folk. I need never be lonely 



Something Soueaked at His Feet 


any more. But if I grow tiny as they are, how shall 
I ever grow to be myself again?” 

Peter did not see how the tree could help him out 
here and he began to feel sad; for he didn’t want to 
miss any of the fun that the tree had promised him, 
and yet he wanted to be sure that he could become a 
regular sized boy whenever he wanted to. For, after 
all, he was well satisfied with himself as he was. 


4 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

The leaves rustled merrily as if they were laughing 
at his fears, and the voice of the tree murmured gayly: 

“You have only to wish to become a boy again and 
in no time you will find yourself just Peter.” The last 
words were so faint that Peter had to strain his ears 
to hear them; but he was delighted and gave a little 
skip of joy. 

“Thank you, dear old Tree. I will” — he began, but 
never knew himself what he was going to say, for just 
then something squeaked out right at his very feet. 

II 

THE OLD MAN OF THE MEADOW 

“Look out, you clumsy fellow,” scolded a shrill little 
voice. “You nearly stepped upon my back.” 

Peter bent quickly down and looked carefully about 
in the grass but he could not see anything that seemed 
to belong to the voice. Then he remembered the magic 
words that the tree had told him to say. 

“Watch — Listen,” he cried and he felt himself getting 
smaller and smaller, and all at once he found himself 
peering into big solemn eyes and the wrinkled face of 
what seemed to be a very old man. The old fellow wore 
a gray coat, a pretty green vest, breeches that reached 
only to his knees and long red stockings. 

“Hello, sir,” said Peter cheerfully. “I am very sorry 
that I nearly stepped upon you, but I was so tall then that 
I never saw you. Did I hurt you?” 

“Hello yourself,” said the old man crossly. “No, 
you didn’t but you might have, you know. Next time 
watch where you are going, will you?” and he started 
off with a queer little hop. 

“Here, wait a minute,” called the boy. “Where are 
you going?” 

As the old man stopped and looked back at him 


IN MEADOWLAND 


s 

over his shoulder Peter stared at him curiously and said 
slowly, — 

“You hop just like a grasshopper, and yes, — I do 
believe you are one.” 

“I certainly am,” snapped the old gentleman. “At 
least Grasshopper is one of my names. Some folks call 
me ‘Old Man of the Meadow.’ But goodness gracious, 
you are making me late for the concert, and I must 
get there, for I have a solo this afternoon.” 

“What concert?” asked the boy in astonishment. 

“Why the Straightwings’ concert, of course. They 
have one every sunny summer day. Come along if you 
like, but do hurry up. I am afraid that we shall not be 
on time now.” 

Spreading wide two brown an4 yellow -banded wings, 
off he flew and alighted on a stalk of grass where he 
waited for Peter to come up. 

“I thought you always hopped,” remarked the boy 
when he caught up with him. 

“Pooh! Much you know about me,” replied Grass- 
hopper scornfully. “Why, I’ll bet you don’t even know 
that my ears are on my front legs. Of course I can 
hop with my six legs, but I like to fly too. And you 
ought to hear me sing! I sing with my wings, you know, 
but I have some cousins who sing with their legs.” 

“Ha! ha! That’s funny,” laughed Peter. “I never 
heard that kind of music. I can sing a little, too, but 
I use my throat. By the way, I should think that you 
would have indigestion. You have been a swallowing 
grass ever since I met you !” 

“There is nothing at all to laugh at, that I can see,” 
said Grasshopper crossly. “Wings and legs are as good 
to sing with as anything else. And I swallow grass as 
quickly as I do because I don’t have to chew my food. 
My teeth are all inside of my body and that makes 
eating so much the easier for me. But I think that it is 
really very rude of you to have mentioned the way I 
eat at all. That is just the way with some folks, though. 


6 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

They are always making fun of things that they don’t 
understand,” and without another word, off he flew in a 
huff. 

Peter hurried on after him and soon he came within 
sight of what he knew immediately must be the Grass- 
hopper orchestra. All the musicians were gathered about 



much You Know About MiE 


a big brown toadstool, on the top of which stood a 
fat chap, evidently the leader, for he was beating time 
with one wing. The little old man who had invited 
Peter bobbed excitedly around them, and as soon as he 
spied Peter he called, 

“I simply can’t wait for you any longer, it is my 
turn to play right now.” With one last hop he jumped 
upon a toadstool and took his place in the band. 

Zipp, zipp, zipp, sounded the music. Locusts fiddled 


IN MEADOWLAND 7 

with their legs upon their wings; Crickets scraped and 
scratched with their front wings upon their hind ones, 
and their cousins, the Longhorns, used their foreheads 
as drums and beat loudly upon them. 

Peter had perched himself upon a stalk of goldenrod 
and now he laughed until he cried at the funny antics of 
the musicians, but he took good care that none of them 
should see him by politely turning his back, for he re- 
membered how angry the old man had been because he 
had poked fun at him for swallowing so much grass. 

And he decided that it was certainly a most interesting 
concert, even if the music did seem all out of tune, for 
the players and the instruments were the strangest that 
he had ever seen. 


Ill 

THE HOUSE LIKE A WHEEL 

At last, however, the queer chirrupy music of the 
meadow band and the gentle motion of the stalk which 
swayed lightly in the wind made Peter drowsy and there 
is no doubt that he would soon have fallen sound asleep 
if suddenly he had not felt that his nose was being furi- 
ously tickled. 

Putting up his hand to brush away what he thought 
was a fly he touched something that felt soft and fat and 
fuzzy and just at that moment a sharp buzz sounded 
right at his ear. 

“Hey there, don’t do that again or you will break 
my thread and give me a terrible tumble. Besides I 
don’t feel like starting all over again.” 

Peter became wide awake at this odd speech and found 
himself facing a fat round head which seemed all eyes 
and which hung on a tiny silken cord that appeared to 
come from nowhere. The sight so startled him that he 
fell over backwards from off his perch and bumped his 
head on a piece of stubble. 

“I beg your pardon,” continued the strange little crea- 


8 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


ture in the politest of buzzes as it swung to and fro 
just above Peter’s head. “I didn’t mean to frighten you, 
but I had just decided to put a bit of glue upon the end 
of your nose when you gave me such a blow that it quite 
unsettled me.” 

“Glue! On the end of my nose!” stammered the boy 
in amazement. “Why, what on earth did you ever want 
to do that for?” 

“Well, you see I didn’t know then that it was the end 
of your nose, but it looked nice and smooth and I thought 
it would make a fine firm spot on which to fasten one 
end of my web, for I am just starting to spin one.” 

“Oh, then you are a Spider,” exclaimed Peter picking 
himself up and looking curiously at him. 

“Certainly I am. Why, what did you think I was? 
I must say I think you are very stupid not to have known 
it in the first place,” scolded the little fellow. 

“Well, I never saw you upside down before,” ex- 
plained the boy. “And besides I didn’t know that you 
could swing in the air, and please, would you mind tell- 
ing me how many eyes you have? They seem to be all 
over your head.” 

“Eight,” answered the Spider scornfully, “and I have 
eight legs, too,” and he kicked all of them rather spite- 
fully in the air as he spoke. “But it is high time that I 
began to spin my web, for Mrs. Spider will be coming 
along soon and she won’t like it at all if it is not ready 
for her. You may watch me if you want to.” 

“Thank you,” said Peter politely. “I should very 
much like to. Do you spin it with your mouth?” 

“I certainly do not,” said the Spider decidedly, now 
thoroughly provoked at the boy’s ignorance. “I carry 
the glue in the back of my body in six little tubes and I 
spin this glue into the finest of silk for my web. I should 
think that almost anybody would know that! And since 
you don’t seem to want it any longer I think I will fasten 
my threads to the leaf upon which you were sitting. No 
doubt it will do quite as well as the end of your nose.” 

“It will certainly be far more comfortable for me,” 


IN MEADOWLAND 


9 

muttered Peter, but the Spider did not hear him. Mak- 
ing his thread fast to the leaf of goldenrod, Mr. Spider 
suddenly began to run about in what seemed to Peter a 
perfectly senseless way. But almost in no time delicate 
silken rays stretched from leaf to blossom; and just as 
the boy was thinking how much they looked like the 
spokes of a wheel Mr. Spider changed his course and 
started to run around in circles over them. Soon he had 
spun a web that sparkled in the sunlight, and looked 
more like a wheel than ever. Then quite out of breath he 
sat down to rest in the middle of it. 

“Well, what do you think of my front porch?” he 
asked. “Didn’t I build it quickly?” 

“I should say you did,” replied Peter, “and it is beau- 
tiful, but it doesn’t look very strong. I should think 
that you would fall through. Won’t you?” 

“No indeed, I shall not,” said Mr. Spider, “and you 
may climb up here beside me if you like, and we will 
sit for a few moments in the sun. This will hold you 
all right, only take care that you do not get your feet 
tangled up in the threads and break them. Watch out 
too that you don’t fall through, for you would certainly 
break your neck. Hold on to one of the rays as you 
come up.” 

Peter lost no time in accepting the invitation, for he 
wanted to ask Mr. Spider a great many things and be- 
sides he had begun to like the old fellow very much. 


IV 

UP THE LACY LADDER 

It was only a short distance from the ground to the 
stalk upon which Mr. Spider had fastened his silken 
cord and Peter easily hopped upon that; but climbing 
safely into the web itself was quite another matter. He 
didn’t feel at all sure that he could do it, but just the 


io 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


same he decided to try, for Mr. Spider, curled up in 
the center, did look so comfortable. 

So he stepped carefully upon the edge of the web, but 
sure enough his foot slipped, just as he had been afraid 
that it would, and through the lines he fell. 

Luckily a branch of the goldenrod was right beneath 
him and he managed to catch hold of it, and a little dizzy 
but quite unhurt, he soon pulled himself back into place 
at the edge of the web, none the worse for his upset. 

“Upon my word but you are awkward,” said Mr. 
Spider sleepily. “It seems to me that it is easy enough 
to crawl up here. Take care that you don’t jar me like 
that again, I was almost asleep. Besides you might 
make a break in my web and then I would have to do 
my spinning all over again and I shouldn’t like that a 
bit.” 


“Lazy old thing,” muttered Peter. “He might come 
down and help me, instead of sitting up there and finding 
fault. But Pll show him. 

“If only I can get across these first few lines that are 
so far apart I can certainly crawl over the others, for 
they get closer and closer together. I know what I’ll 
do! I’ll make believe that I am climbing up Dad’s red 
ladder. That is what this old web looks just like!” 

This time he was very careful just where and how he 
put his foot and holding tightly to one of the rays at 
last he found himself right in the middle of the web 
and he sat down by Mr. Spider, who looked at him lazily 
but said never a word. 

“Well, old fellow, I did crawl Into your funny home, 
and it certainly is fine after you get up. How long are 
you going to live here?” 

“This isn’t my house! Didn’t I tell you it is only the 
front porch ?” said Mr. Spider, who sounded as if he was 
half asleep. “When Mrs. Spider comes along she will 
put me to work on the house. But don’t talk to me now, 
I want to rest a little after my hard work. But by the 
way, since you are up here, you might at least tell me 
what kind of an insect you are. You look strangely 


IN MEADOWLAND 1 1 

like some one I have seen, but who it was I can’t quite 
remember.” 

“Why, I am a boy,” laughed Peter, “and that is why I 
am so proud of myself for getting up here. I bet I am 
the first one who ever sat in a Spider’s web.” 

“A boy,” buzzed the Spider angrily, becoming wide 
awake at once. “Why, the very idea! I hate the very 
name. Boys are always pulling off our legs or tearing 
down our houses and causing us lots of pain and trouble. 
Only last week one stepped on my poor sister when she 
was going out for a short crawl. 

“If I had only guessed that you were a boy I would 
have bitten you. I believe I will now,” and he turned so 
that Peter could see the little fangs in the front of his 
head. 

Peter was a bit frightened. 

“Don’t, please,” he said quickly. “I am not that kind 
of a boy, truly I’m not. Did I act like that when I first 
met you ?” 

“No, I must say you didn’t,” said Mr. Spider, not 
quite so crossly. “But perhaps that is because you are 
so small. Why, you are.no larger than I am and all 
the boys I have ever seen are huge creatures. Are you 
quite sure that you really are one?” % 

“Of course, you silly thing,” said Peter. “Don’t you 
suppose that I know what I am? And indeed it is just 
because I love the little folk of the field and forest and 
never hurt them that I am little, like you. I can grow 
big whenever I want to, though.” 

“I don’t believe you,” said Mr. Spider flatly. 

“I’d break your web if I tried it now,” laughed the 
boy, “but may be you will see me do it later. 

“But in the meantime would you mind if I asked you a 
few questions? There are ever so many things that I 
want to know and you look so wise that I am sure that 
you could tell me.” 


12 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


V 

QUEER LEGS AND A KINGLY COAT 

Mr. Spider was a vain fellow and he puffed up so 
with pride that he actually seemed quite a little fatter 
as Peter looked at him. 

“I am glad that you at least realize what a clever 
chap I am,” he said boastfully, and he looked so self- 
important and his eyes stuck out in such a foolish fashion 
that Peter almost laughed in his face. 

“I just wish that my wife could have heard you. You 
must be sure to tell her what you think of me when 
you see her. She often says that I know nothing at 
all. But then, what she says doesn’t matter much any- 
how. But you had better hurry up and ask me or she 
will be coming along to interrupt us, and once she gets 
here, I can’t get a word in edgewise. She always insists 
upon doing all the talking. I am very much spider- 
pecked, my dear fellow. Dear me, it makes me nervous 
just to think of her! 

“But to change the subject, did you notice my new 
coat? You haven’t said a word about it. I think it is 
very handsome, and even Mrs. Spider says that it fits 
me well, although she didn’t happen to be with me 
when I got it.” 

“That is exactly what I was going to speak to you 
about first,” said Peter. “My mother has a black-and-red 
sofa pillow that looks a great deal like it.” 

“Sofa pillow,” exclaimed Mr. Spider curiously, “what 
is a sofa pillow?” 

“Don’t you know?” asked the boy, rather amazed at 
Mr. Spider’s ignorance. “Why, a sofa pillow is a nice 
soft thing that you lay your head upon when you lie 
down.” 

“The very idea,” said Mr. Spider in great disgust. “I 
never heard of such a thing. Pretty lazy I call that! 
We lie flat on our stomachs and we don’t need anything 


IN MEADOWLAND 


13 

soft to put our heads on either, and we are fine and 
comfortable, I can tell you. And my coat can’t look so 
very much like your old pillow, for you said that it was 
black and red and my coat is black and red and brown 
and gold, and it is all covered with stripes and spots 
besides. And I do not in the least know what you mean 
by ‘velvet’ (something else silly, I suppose) but my 
coat is made of tiny silk hairs. As a matter of fact, al- 
though I don’t tell this to every one, I was once told by 
a very old friend of mine who had traveled all over 
the world that my coat was as rich as a king’s. But I 
must say I never knew what he meant.” 

“Oh, I do!” cried the boy. “A king is a man who 
lives in a palace and wears a crown and tells people what 
they must do, and if they don’t mind him he has their 
heads cut off.” 

“Pleasant sort of a creature, I should say,” said Mr. 
Spider. “That is even worse than we do in Spiderland. 
When we want to punish any one we bite off a few of their 
legs.” 

“What a' horrid thing to do! How can you hurt 
each other so? Why, that is exactly what you were so 
angry about when you found that I was a boy. You said 
boys always pulled off your legs and that was why you 
hated them!” And Peter wondered how Mr. Spider 
would explain things. 

“But that is quite different,” calmly replied the little 
fellow. “What we do is for punishment and what you 
do is for your own fun. And besides, we only bite off 
a few legs and we know that they will grow right back 
on again, while you pull all of our eight legs off and 
then we die. And all the other Spiders know which 
Spider has been naughty, for his new legs are smaller 
than his old ones were. You see I have two short legs 
myself. My brother bit them off one day because I 
stole his fly. I have never taken anything since that 
didn’t belong to me. That taught me a lesson, you may 
be sure, for it certainly did hurt me at the time.” 

“Well,” said Peter, who had been looking very closely 


14 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

at Mr. Spider, “your legs are long enough so that you 
could spare some without looking any the worse for it, 
and you really have the fattest body that I have ever 
seen.” 

“Yes, isn’t' it?” said Mr. Spider, proudly patting it 
with one of his legs. “That is because I eat so much. I 
bet you that I can catch more flies and bugs than any 
other Spider in our town, and every one knows that 
my webs are the finest, that is, any one who knows about 
webs. Of course, there are a few silly Spiders that say 
their work is better than mine, but that is not true. 
Why, this web we are sitting in is perfect, don’t you 
think so?” 

’ “I don’t know much about webs, you know,” said 
Peter, “but it looks so to me, only I must say that I am 
getting a crick in my back from trying to sit up straight. 
It seems to me that this side of it slants a little bit.” 


VI 

MRS. SPIDER SPEAKS HER MIND 

“It certainly does slant entirely too much, Sam Spider,” 
sounded a decidedly sharpbuzz from below, and peering 
down through the lines of the web Peter saw another 
smaller spider running quickly up the goldenrod stalk 
toward them. 

“How many times have I told you to spin so that 
one can lie down comfortably without feeling up-side- 
down? You are the most careless Spider I ever saw! 
And where is my nest? You knew perfectly well that I 
am all ready to lay my eggs, and here there isn’t a sign 
of it.” . 

In spite of the fact that she was hurrying as fast as she 
could and buzzing angrily at the same time, she didn’t 
seem a bit out of breath when she appeared at the edge 
of the web. 

“So this is how you waste your time, lying in the sun 


IN MEADOWLAND 


15 

and talking to some other insect as lazy as yourself! I 
might have known that you would have. And who, 
pray tell, is the queer looking creature with you, and 
what is he doing in our web, I should like to know?” 

u My dear, don’t be so cross,” said her husband nerv- 
ously, for quite evidently the latest comer was Mrs. 
Spider. “I was waiting until you came along before I 
started the nest, for I wanted you to tell me just how you 
wanted it. You are so clever about such things, and I 
knew that if I made it myself you would be sure to find 
something wrong about it. And you might just as well 
be satisfied, you know.” And the foxy chap actually 
winked at Peter with an eye that his wife couldn’t see. 

“Pooh, I don’t believe you thought a thing about me! 
You just wanted to stop working, that’s all. I know 
you, Sam Spider. But you haven’t told me yet who 
that is with you !” 

“This is a boy,” began Mr. Spider, “but a very 
nice ” But he got no farther. 

“A boy!” scolded his wife. “A boy, and you let the 
nasty thing on our veranda ! I must say you haven’t 
the least speck of sense, Sam. Now he’ll know just 
where our nest is, and when our little babies are born he 
will probably come around and stick spikes through their 
little bodies just to see them squirm. That is what hap- 
pened last year, you know. But there, I dare say you 
don’t remember a thing about poor Crawly and Spindle. 
You are a careless father, that’s what you are! As 
for you, I’ve a good mind to shake you right down out 
of this web,” and she started off in Peter’s direction with 
a fierce air that scared him. 

He jumped to his feet and almost lost his balance. 
(“I almost felt as if I were trying to walk a tightrope,” 
said Peter to himself afterward when he thought about 

it.) 

“Wait a minute, Mrs. Spider, do,” he said. . “I 
wouldn’t hurt your babies for the world. Mr. Spider 
knows I wouldn’t. Indeed I will catch as many flies as 
I can and bring them for you to feed to the youngsters, 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


16 

if you will let me. I am only making a little visit to 
Insect-land because I like you all so much. Can’t you 
trust me?” 

“Well,” said Mrs. Spider, who had stopped her mad 
rush toward him as he spoke, “you sound like a decent 
fellow after all. And if you will bring us lots of flies, 
that will certainly be very kind of you. It is hard 
for us poor spiders to get enough to eat lately, for I 
have heard that you Humans are killing all the flies you 
can find. An old aunt of mine is very wise, and when 
we were out crawling the other day we saw a queer 
sign that said ‘Swat the Fly,’ and she said that was 
what it meant. Perhaps you can tell me if that was 
right.” 

“I am afraid that it is,” replied Peter, who half 
expected that the lady would lose her temper again. 
“But you see, flies bite our babies and make them sick 
and spoil our food so that we have to throw it away, 
and so we just have to stop them from doing so much 
damage.” 

“Is that so?” asked Mrs. Spider, evidently much sur- 
prised. “Oh, then of course I don’t blame you at all. 
We all have to take care of our babies. But it is going 
to make it bad for us. It looks as if there was going to 
be a shortage of flies this season, and what else we can 
find to take their place I don’t know. But any that you 
will give us will help out a good deal. 

“By the way, what have you on your feet? I never 
saw anything so queer. They look like funny pieces of 
bark. And why do you wear them? Don’t they hurt 
your claws?” 

“Those are shoes, and they are made out of leather,” 
answered the boy, who thought even insects ought to 
know what leather was. “I wear them on purpose so 
that I will not hurt my feet. We don’t call them claws, 
you know,” he added politely. “They are like my hands, 
but much more tender. I couldn’t walk far without 
shoes.” 

“I believe you could walk much better,” said Mrs. 


IN MEADOWLAND 


17 

Spider decidedly. “Look at our claws, they have a little 
brush of hairs on them, and we can even *walk right up 
walls if we want to. And we can jump and crawl and 
run. I can’t see that you have any advantage over us 
in that way, at least. But goodness me, here I am talking 
like a cricket when I must lay my eggs. Come on now, 
Sam, you simply have got to get to work. Mr. Boy 
can watch us if he likes,” and off the energetic lady 
hurried, to show her husband just where she wanted the 
nest. 


VII 

THE HOUSE HUNTERS 

Peter did not feel at all comfortable, but he was very 
curious to see how Mr. and Mrs. Spider were going to 
build the nest that they had talked so much about, so he 
decided to stay where he was for a while and watch them. 

“What a good thing that I am up here out of their 
way,” he said to himself, “for if I was down there on 
the ground they would crawl all over me.” 

With all the room that one would think they could pos- 
sibly need to keep out of each other’s way, Mr. and 
Mrs. Spider were certainly having a terrible time of it. 
Peering first under one leaf and then under another, Mrs. 
Spider crawled about so quickly that she kept bumping 
into her poor fat husband, who followed closely behind 
her. 

“My dear,” he said at last, “I do wish that you would 
tell me where you are going or when you are coming 
back. You have stepped on my front claw three times, 
and now I can only crawl with my other seven.” 

“I’ll do nothing of the sort, Sam Spider,” answered 
his wife crossly. “If you weren’t so lazy, you would go 
ahead and pick out a nice place to spin our home. In- 
stead of that, there you are far behind me, and I have 
to find it myself if it is going to be found at all.” 


i8 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


It was all very funny and Peter laughed so hard as he 
watched them that he almost fell out of the web. 

A wild berry bush grew so close beside the stalk of 
goldenrod that their leaves touched, and at last Mrs. 
Spider, who was evidently hard to suit, decided to try 
her luck upon that. So up she ran and buzzing busily 
about at last she discovered a suitable place. 

“Sam Spider,” she buzzed excitedly, “come up here 
at once! I’ve found just exactly what I have, been look- 
ing for and it is right near the web too. I can sit in the 
doorway all day and see that you keep busy catching 
flies for the family, instead of falling asleep in the sun. 
Well, where are you anyway?” 

“Here I am, my dear, here I am,” answered Mr. 
Spider as his bulging eyes and soft fat body (which 
looked more like a bag than ever, thought Peter), ap- 
peared at the top of the bush. “I just stopped for a 
moment to get my breath, but I am quite ready to begin 
spinning now. What shape do you want me to make the 
nest?” 

“Let me think,” said Mrs. Spider slowly. “Now I re- 
member that mother’s was round like a ball and we 
children never had any comfort, for we could never stick 
upon its sides as we should and we were forever tumbling 
on top of each other. Aunt’s nest is built like a horn 
and only the other day she told me that she would have to 
move because it is so narrow that she can get very little 
light and hardly any air at all. 

“I tell you what, I believe I’ll have mine in the shape 
of a basket. Then our babies will be sure to have plenty 
of room and as much fresh air and light as they need. 
But do let’s stop talking and you get to work. I simply 
must lay my eggs.” 

And Sam then set to work with a will and in no time 
at all, it seemed to Peter, he had finished. 

“There, what do you think of that?” he asked his 
wife, and Peter was surprised to see what looked like a 
hanging basket, made of the closest, softest silk. 

“My, but that is pretty, Mr. Spider !” he called, “and 


IN MEADOWLAND 


19 

you made it so quickly too.” And although neither of the 
Spiders had asked for his opinion, they both were very 
happy to hear Sam’s work praised. 

“I am glad you like it,” said Mr. Spider with a satis- 
fied smile, and his wife patted him on the back with one 
of her claws. 

“Yes, Sam is a good fellow after all,” she said, “and 
he certainly can spin when he wants to. But now that my 
nest is all ready I am going to crawl into it. Hand me 
that line, Sam, and I will hold fast to It while you go 
for a walk or take a nap if you want to. Be sure no fly 
or bug who walks into our web will get away from me 1 
I shall feel him the minute that he steps upon it.” 

“Now would you mind getting out of the web, Boy? 
I hate dust, you know, and I see two big spots that you 
have made with your silly old shoes. I shall have to 
shake them off with my foot.” 

Peter \vasn’t a bit sorry to jump to the ground, for 
besides having a crick in his back he was beginning to get 
hungry. 

“Thank you very much for letting me visit you,” he 
said politely to Mrs. Spider. “I had a very fine time.” 
But the lady was too busy shaking out the web to do 
anything but buzz good-by. 

Mr. Spider, however, solemnly held out one claw for 
him to shake. 

“So long, old chap,” he said. “Come around again 
when Mrs. Spider isn’t so busy and when you can see our 
babies. They will be out in a little while, and they are 
sure to be fine little crawlers, I can tell you.” 

Peter had not gone very far when he turned around to 
wave good-by; but he never did it, for he saw very plainly 
that Mr. Spider, the sleepy old fellow, had dropped into 
a doze again and he knew quite well that Mrs. Spider was 
thinking only of the lovely eggs she was going to lay 
and would never notice him at all. 


20 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


VIII 

% 

A FALL IN THE DARK 

When Peter turned around from taking his last look at 
sleepy Mr. Spider and his busy little wife, he discovered 
that he had walked to the very foot of what looked like a 
great mountain. 

“I do believe that I have lost my way,” said Peter to 
himself. I am sure that I am nowhere near home, for 
this seems to be very much higher than the hill behind 
our house, and I can’t remember any other anywhere 
around. I wonder if this can be that mountain on the 
other side of the valley that father talks so much about. 

“It seems awfully steep, but perhaps if I climb to the 
top of it I can find out where I am. I simply can’t see a 
thing way down here in the grass.” 

Steep the road certainly was and rough as well, as the 
boy found out to his sorrow when he started to climb, 
for he had to crawl almost on his hands and knees. But 
he had gone only a short way when he lost his balance 
and fell. 

Instead of tumbling to the ground, however, he crashed 
through what he thought must be a hole in the side of the 
mountain. Down, down he fell until at last, a little dizzy, 
he landed safe and sound on a soft bed of dry leaves that 
crackled as he dropped upon them. 

It was as dark as night and until Peter’s eyes had 
grown accustomed to the blackness he didn’t dare to move 
for fear of falling again. He felt a sharp pain in his leg 
and when he put his hand down to rub the aching spot 
he found something sharp had run into the flesh and 
was still sticking there. 

“That was a great thing to do,” he muttered to him- 
self, “I might have broken my neck. My knee hurts 
dreadfully since I pulled out that long spike, — if it hadn’t 
seemed so long I should have thought it was a splin- 


IN MEADOWLAND 


21 


ter. Where did I get it, I wonder, and how in the world 
am I ever going to get out of this place now I am here? 
There must be a sawmill near. At any rate, that noise I 
hear sounds like the saws in Uncle Ned’s mill.” 

Before long he found to his delight that he could begin 
to see about him, “Just like a cat,” he thought, and he 
wondered if his eyes shone in the darkness, as Tabby’s 
did. He was in a narrow hallway. 

“This passage must lead somewhere,” thought he. “I 
am going to find out where it goes. Perhaps I can find a 
way out, if I walk far enough,” and off he started. 

It was a puzzling $ort of passage, for it wound around 
and around, and the boy felt as if he was going about in 
circles and getting nowhere at all. 

“This is certainly the queerest place I’ve ever been in,” 
he decided. “I feel as if I was playing hide and seek, 
but the crazy part of it is I don’t know whom I am look- 
ing for, so how shall I know when I have found him? 
That sounds all mixed up but it is no wonder that I can’t 
think straight, after twisting and turning so many times. 
And what in the world can all these little doors be for? 
I have knocked at every one of them, but nobody answers. 
I am going to shake the next one and see if I can’t get it 
open. I don’t care if it is rude; if there is no one home, 
what does that matter? And if there is, they can tell me 
where I am and how to get out.” 

But although Peter tried with all his strength to push 
and pry open the tiny doors, not one of them could he 
budge even the smallest crack. Finally just as he had 
about given up in despair, what should he see a little 
ahead of him but one that was half open. He ran to it 
and eagerly peered into the room, but it was perfectly 
empty. 

“Pooh,” said he disappointedly, “I am sorry I wasted 
all my time trying to get into all the old rooms. There 
is nothing in them anyhow, and they look just exactly like 
cells. Maybe this is a prison and wicked people are 
locked in those closed rooms. I suppose whoever lives 


22 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 

down here, if anybody does, will take me for a robber and 
put me in too. But I don’t know what I’d steal, for I 
haven’t seen a thing so far.” 

The strange noise had been growing louder and louder 
all the while that Peter had been walking down the pas- 
sage : and now as he turned another sharp corner he 
found himself in a large room, at the other end of which 
a great number of short, fat little creatures ran busily 
back and forth, muttering to themselves as they trotted 
about. 

For a moment he wished that he had not been so ven- 
turesome and that he had found out what was in the 
room before he blundered into it, for he thought that he 
had run into a cave of bears. 


IX 

AT THE END OF THE PASSAGE 

Peter had half a mind to retrace his steps, but he 
dreaded to go back into the dark passage again. Then 
to his amazement one of the little creatures rose from 
among the throng and flew over in his direction. And 
just at that moment he remembered something that made 
him burst out laughing. 

“Well, if I am not a dunce !” he chuckled. “Here I had 
forgotten all about how little I had grown and these 
creatures are not very much larger than I am, so of 
course they couldn’t possibly be bears, and I never heard 
of a flying bear, either. How surprised we fellows would 
have been at the circus last year if one of the grizzlies 
had suddenly spread out wings and risen over our heads. 
Wouldn’t their paws have looked clumsy flapping in the 
air!” 

He was so amused at his own thoughts that he hadn’t 
noticed that the flier had landed on the floor almost at 
his feet and he jumped when a voice fairly shrieked: 

“Stop making that queer noise, I say, and listen to 


IN MEADOWLAND 23 

me or I will call to my sisters and we will put you in a 
cell.” 1 

Then ^that was a prison after all, thought Peter, and 
much frightened he sooke in a voice which he bravely 
tried to control but which trembled a bit in spite of him- 
self. 



BUT YOU WERE MAKING FUrf 
OF US' 1 


“Oh, don’t do that, please. I am sure I didn’t hear you 
speak or I would have answered you right away. And 
indeed I’ve been waiting for you to notice me for a long 
time.” 

“You should have heard me,” said the still angry voice. 
“I spoke loud enough, I am sure, but you were making 


PETER S ADVENTURES 


24 

fun of us, that’s what you were, and doubtless planning 
to do us some harm too.” 

“No, I wasn’t,” said the boy quickly. “Why, I was not 
even sure who you all were until now that I see you so 
plainly. I was laughing at myself because I thought you 
were bears at first, but you look like bees — you are a bee, 
aren’t you? And if you are, I’d like very much to be a 
friend of yours, for I’ve always liked bees. We have a 
hive of them in our front yard at home.” 

“You have?” asked the bee curiously. “What do you 
do with us, and who are you anyway, and how did you get 
in here, I should like to know? There is only one en- 
trance and that is well guarded. You could never have 
gotten through there, now could you?” and the bee 
pointed with her feelers towards a door at the opposite 
side of the room through which crowds of bees were 
passing in and out. 

“I didn’t come in that way,” said Peter. “I came 
down through that passage right behind us,” and he care- 
lessly waved his hand in the direction of the long winding 
corridor with the many little doors. 

“Sisters, sisters!” shrieked the bee wildly. “There is a 
thief among us,” and in the twinkling of an eye the whole 
room was in an uproar and Peter thought he would be 
crushed as all the bees swarmed towards him in an angry 
mass. 

There was no way of escape, so the boy stood his 
ground, but he cried as loudly as he could: 

“I am not a thief, I am not a thief, and I can prove it 
if you will let me !” 

He hadn’t much hope that any one would pay attention 
to his cries, for they surrounded him on every side; but 
at this moment he heard a sound like a trumpet and much 
to his surprise the savage buzzing stopped. 

A fat brown bee stepped out of the throng and stood 
beside the one who had called for help. 

“Sister,” she said in a grave voice, “Why did you call 
to us?” 

“To sting him and seal him up in a cell,” said the other 


IN MEADOWLAND 25 

excitedly. “He has stolen our honey, and our babies will 
starve.” 

X 

MAKE WAY FOR THE QUEEN 

As soon as they heard the dreadful charge that the 
excited little bee made against the stranger who had ap- 
peared so mysteriously among them, the bees again began 
their angry buzzing and Peter expected every moment to 
be stung. But again the fat bee silenced them with a 
wave of her wing. 

“Why did you steal our honey?” she asked. 

“I didn’t touch it,” said he earnestly, “I didn’t even 
see it, and I am sure if I had ” 

But the bee had turned away from him and was ad- 
dressing the crowd of bees behind her who pushed for- 
ward to hear what she was saying. 

“It seems to me that we do not want to be in too much 
of a hurry to punish this creature, whoever he is. Per- 
haps he didn’t do anything wrong after all. Our good 
sister here says he is a thief, and maybe he is, but he says 
that he isn’t and perhaps he is right. And I think that 
the question of his guilt is one for the Queen to decide. 
Let us take him to our Queen.” 

“Why don’t you look to see if there is any of your old 
honey missing first?” said Peter. “It won’t be a fair 
trial unless you can prove that something has been taken, 
for if there hasn’t, why there won’t be anything to have a 
trial about. This is a silly way to do.” 

The fat bee looked as if she was going to agree with 
what he said, when the one who had called for help said 
sulkily: 

“Well, what was he in the passage for, if he didn’t 
intend to steal? And if he intended to, why that is every 
bit as bad as if he had, and he ought to be punished any- 
way, don’t you think so, sisters?” 

“Of course he ought to be punished,” buzzed the bees 


26 PETER’S ADVENTURES 


all in chorus. “Down with the wicked creature who is 


trying to take the food out of our children’s mouths!” 

There is no telling what might have happened at this 
minute if a clear voice had not called: 

“Our Queen comes. Make way for the Queen!” 



SHE ASKED WHO HE WAS AMD 
WHY HE WAS THERE 


You may be sure that Peter watched anxiously for the 
royal personage who was to decide what was going to be 
done with him, and he was glad to see a pretty little bee 
coming into the room through the door at the other side. 

The bees seemed glad to see her and sang a little song 
to welcome her, stepping aside to make way for her to 
pass among them, as they buzzed “Long live the Queen !” 


IN MEADOWLAND 


27 

Now for the first time Peter noticed a tiny throne in 
the corner of the room. It was made all of wax, and 
over it hung the royal canopy which was also of wax. 
And it was here that the pretty Queen seated herself, 
after greeting her little subjects with gentle dignity. 
Peter noticed as she bowed that upon her head was a 
little crown that shone like gold, and over her wings a 
golden scarf that trailed behind her. 

In a sweet voice she commanded that the prisoner be 
brought before her. Whereupon the fat bee solemnly led 
Peter forward to the foot of the throne. Rather shaky 
in the knees but determined not to show that he was 
afraid, the boy tried to think of all that he had ever heard 
or read about the way that people acted when they were 
going to talk to royalty, and then he remembered that 
he had once seen a picture of a man kneeling before a 
king on his throne, so down he dropped on one knee. 
Not being used to it, he very nearly tumbled over on his 
nose, but the Queen didn’t seem to notice it at all. 

As a matter of fact she was surprised and pleased to 
find such a polite little captive and her voice sounded very 
kind as she asked him who he was and why he was there. 

“I am a little boy, Your Honor, no, I mean Your High- 
ness,” he said rather timidly, “and I don’t know why I 
am here. I am sure I didn’t want to be. I fell in through 
a hole in your mountain.” 


XI 

ON TRIAL IN BEEVILLE 

“Through a hole in our mountain,” repeated the Queen 
in a puzzled tone. “What in the world do you mean? 
We haven’t any mountain here, our village is built in the 
side of a fallen tree.” 

“Oh, was that a tree?” cried Peter. “Then of course 
that is where I got that splinter. I had lost my way, 
Your Highness, and came to what I thought was a moun- 


28 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


tain. I tried to climb over it, but it was so steep that I 
had to crawl up it on my hands and knees, and then I felt 
something give way under me and down I fell into a dark 
hole, turning summersaults all the way until I landed 
on a lot of leaves in that old passage.” 

“Oh, you poor little boy, what a fright you must have 
had! But dear me, what a dangerous thing to have a 
hole in the top of our home. We must seal that up right 
away, or all the strangers in the neighborhood will come 
tumbling in.” 

“Mason,” said the Queen, turning to a bee who was 
smaller than the others, but who looked very strong and 
had long sharp feelers, “Fly up and mend the hole in the 
roof, and be sure that you take plenty of wax with you 
and seal it tightly, or goodness knows what we shall find 
among us next !” 

“And would you mind telling us,” she said turning 
again to Peter, “just what you meant by turning winter- 
salts, — you said you did, you know.” 

“Wintersalts,” repeated Peter slowly, not knowing at 
first what she could mean, and then he guessed. 

“Not wintersalts f Your Majesty, summersaults — I 
turned summersaults.” 

“Well, what is the difference?” asked the Queen, who 
seemed a little provoked to think she had made a mis- 
take. “Can’t you do it, whatever it is, in the winter just 
as well?” 

“I don’t think the time of year has anything to do with 
it,” said Peter, “and I really don’t know why they call it 
that, but it means turning upside down.” 

“It seems to me,” said the Queen a little haughtily, 
“that you should have said that in the first place. But 
now that is all settled, what did you do next?” 

“I tried to get out,” said Peter, so quickly that the bees 
buzzed with amusement and even the Queen smiled. “But 
I scratched my face and hands when I tried to climb back 
again and my knee hurt so that I had to stop. And after 
a while, when I could see, I found that I was in a long 
passage, so I walked and walked and walked, thinking 


IN MEADOWLAND 


29 


that if I kept on long enough I must come out some- 
where.” 

“A very wise idea,” said the Queen and all the bees 
nodded their approval. 

“All I could find at first were lots and lots of tiny doors 
that wouldn’t open, although I pushed them as hard as 
ever I could. Then I came to some that stood half-way 
open, and I peeped inside, but there was nobody in them, 
only in one or two I saw a pile of something that looked 
like putty in the corner. So I went on and on until at 
last I turned a corner and came out here. Was that a 
prison, Your Highness? And are bees such naughty 
people? There were so many doors!” 

“Mercy no!” said the Queen, and for a moment Peter 
thought that she was going to laugh out loud. “These 
were cells, it is true, but not for the bees but for the 
honey. That pile that you saw in the corner was some 
of it that my workers had stored away but they had not 
put nearly all in that the cell would hold, so they had not 
sealed up the door. My busy subjects fill all those little 
rooms with honey and that is how we get our food for the 
winter. They make just exactly enough of it, too, to feed 
the tribe, and if any is missing some one will have to 
starve, and that is why they were so anxious when they 
thought you had stolen it. 

“There are a lot of us now, you see, and we expect a 
lot of new babies before very long. I have laid 150 eggs 
myself just this morning, and I must say that I think that 
is a pretty good day’s work. We love babies here in 
Beeville, and we will not let anything happen that would 
hurt them if we can help it. But of course if you fell 
through our roof you are not to blame for being in our 
storehouse; and you really do seem a very decent sort of 
fellow, so if you would like to make a little visit to Bee- 
ville my subjects will do their best to make you happy.” 

For some time a funny fat bee with only three wings 
had been trying her best to attract the attention of the 
Queen and as soon as Her Majesty finished speaking, 
she waddled over to where Peter was standing. 


30 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


XII 

BEE JUSTICE 

“Your Majesty, I do not at all approve of allowing 
this strange creature to run around loose in our village. 
You ought to know better.” 

The grumbling tone sounded very familiar to Peter, 
but try as he would he couldn’t remember where he had 
heard it before. He was much astonished that one of 
her subjects dared to speak so familiarly to the Queen, 
and he half expected to hear her order, “Off with her 
head!” He had rather a hazy idea that was what kings 
and queens always said when they didn’t like anything, — 
at least they did in the books he had read. And he felt 
sorry for the bee who had spoken against his visit, for she 
did look old and pitiful as she stood there. 

But much to his surprise, the Queen didn’t seem to 
mind it one bit. 

“Why not, nursie?” she asked the bee kindly. “What 
possible harm could he do even if he wanted to? — and I 
am sure I don’t think that he wants to.” 

Another voice behind the boy now spoke, and look- 
ing over his shoulder he saw that it was that of the excited 
bee who had first taken him for a thief and had called for 
help. 

“He was in the storehouse passage, Your Majesty, 
and he had no right to be there.” 

“Exactly, that’s just what I think,” agreed the .one 
whom the Queen had called nursie. “It all appears very 
suspicious to me and I for one think he is up to no good 
and that he is a dangerous thing to have around.” 

“Why, nursie, what has come over you !” And now it 
seemed to be the Queen’s turn to be surprised. “It is not 
a bit like you to talk like this. I never saw you so cross 
before.” 

“Of course you didn’t,” grumbled the old lady, “be- 
cause you never did anything so foolish before. You 


IN MEADOWLAND 


3i 

don’t remember how well I took care of you when you 
were a tiny grub. You never knew how hard I worked 
to find the finest flower dust so that you should have the 
best of food to make you grow strong and beautiful to 
be our queen. Why, my pockets are all worn out, so 
many loads of dust have I carried for you in them! You 
forget all that your old nurse has done for you and what 
all the other nurses are doing now to take care of your 
own babies, and because you think he will amuse you for 
a time you invite this boy to stay with us, when you know 
he may eat up our honey and destroy our cells.” 

“I’ll do nothing of the sort, you horrid old thing,” 
almost shouted Peter, so angry was he to think that the 
fat bee still insisted upon calling him a thief. “I don’t 
want your honey, I tell you.” 

“Of course he doesn’t,” — “I say he does” — argued the 
bees loudly among themselves. 

“Silence!” commanded the Queen in a voice that was 
so clear that it could be heard above all the din, and 
Peter looking at her face decided that she could be as 
stern as queens are supposed to be, after all. 

“I shall settle this thing as I think best, and you my 
subjects shall bow to my judgment,” said Her Majesty 
in a determined way. “I trust the boy and believe what 
he says, and he is welcome to live with us as long as he 
likes. As for you, nursie, you’re a silly old thing. You 
are afraid that something will happen to me, or that I 
shall like some one better than yourself. You are jealous, 
that’s what you are, old dear, and if I didn’t know how 
good you really can be, I’d be cross.” 

The fat, old bee waddled nearer the Queen, shaking 
her head and muttering to herself as she went, but when 
Her Majesty bent over and patted her on the back with 
her feelers, the cross old nurse actually smiled. And 
suddenly Peter remembered whose voice hers had re- 
minded him of. 

“She acts just as my old nurse used to,” said he to 
himself. “She scolds the Queen exactly the same way as 
Annie used to scold me when I wanted to do something 


32 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

that she thought might hurt me. How funny to think 
that bees are so much like people. I shouldn’t be a bit 
surprised if she turns out to be quite kind after once she 
knows you.” 

“Dawdler,” said the Queen suddenly, her voice break- 
ing in upon Peter’s thoughts “come here, if you please!” 

XIII 

DAWDLER THE DUDE 

Down by the side of the throne there was a little round 
stool, and on this stool sat a roly-poly fellow who didn’t 
seem to be paying any attention to what was going on 
about him. He stretched out first one wing and then 
another, and smoothed and polished them with his hairy 
legs until they fairly shone, and every now and then he 
gazed at himself in the tiniest of mirrors which hung 
about his fat neck on a waxen cord. His head was round 
and thick, and perched on the top of it was a hat which 
looked like a man’s silk one, only instead of being black 
it was yellow and made of wax. 

At the Queen’s call he jumped hastily to his feet, 
cocked his hat at a rakish angle and strolled over and 
stood before her. In passing he stepped on Peter’s toe 
and on looking down the boy saw that on each of his six 
feet was a diminutive boot and that these boots were yel- 
low like the hat. But what astonished him most of all 
was the sight of the walking stick that the bee carried 
under his wing. 

“What a queer thing for a bee to have,” thought he. 
“I wonder what he does with it when he flies. He is cer- 
tainly the most dressed up bee in the town, — Dad would 
call him a dude, with the hat and that cane. He isn’t very 
polite, that’s one sure thing, — to stand before Her 
Majesty with his hat on, but of course that may be the 
custom here.” 

It evidently was, for neither the Queen nor her cour- 


IN MEADOWLAND 


33 


tiers told him to take it off. They seemed to regard it as 
a matter of course, and as he touched one wing to the 
brim in a salute, the Queen bowed gravely in return. 

“If it please your Royal Highness,” said he, “I am here 
and await your orders.” 

“That is about all you seem able to do, Dawdler; just 
‘wait’ for something,” said the Queen with a smile, and 
the assembled bees evidently found what she said a great 
joke, for they laughed with delight. 

“And that is exactly the reason why I called you before 
me. You are a pleasant sort of chap and we all like you, 
but you are becoming entirely too lazy and it is making 
you stout, and you know you will not be half as hand- 
some when you are as fat as nurse for example,” and she 
nodded at the old lady, who looked quite put out to hear 
herself polced fun at. 

“You spend all day and every day in doing nothing 
at all but strolling idly about, humming some silly little 
song, and while all the others busy themselves finding 
flower dust for the babies, feeding them or putting up 
food for the winter, you shine up your wings, admire 
yourself in your looking-glass and when you are tired of 
that, curl yourself up and take naps in the sun.” 

“But, my dear Queen, I was never made to work, you 
know,” protested the fellow in a grieved tone. “I should 
not know what to do or how to do it, and I should only 
be in the workers’ way if I tried to build a cell for in- 
stance. And how can I go out after pollen? One of our 
enemies would be sure to get it away from me when he 
found that I couldn’t fight him because I had no stinger!” 

“All that is perfectly true, my dear boy,” said Her 
Majesty, “but you are supposed to entertain and amuse 
the rest of us, and yet you have not even taken the trouble 
to do that lately, — you have* been far too interested in 
your own conceited self. It will be much better for you 
and for all of us to know that you are useful as well as 
ornamental and here is a chance for you to do your share. 
And I have chosen a task that I am sure you will like. I 
hereby appoint you Chief Guide and Counselor to our 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


34 

guest, the Boy, and I expect you to show him the sights 
of our city and to see that he has a good time while he is 
with us.” 

The bee thus addressed had at first looked a bit sullen, 
but when the Queen mentioned that his duty was to con- 
sist mostly of having a good time, he brightened up im- 
mediately. 

“I shall certainly do my best, Your Majesty,” he de- 
clared, “and if our guest doesn’t like Beeville it will not 
be my fault,” and turning towards Peter the saucy fellow 
actually winked one of his six eyes. 

As for Peter, he was delighted to think that things 
had gone so well for him, and taking a few steps forward 
he bowed low before the Queen. 

“Your Majesty is most kind, and I thank you,” he be- 
gan, but the royal lady cut short his thanks with a wave 
of her wing. 

“Don’t thank me yet, wait and see how you like us,” 
she said with a merry little laugh which suddenly changed 
to a startled cry as a messenger, his coat covered with 
dust, dashed through the door, pushed his way through 
the crowd and fell upon one knee before her. 

XIV 

A CALL TO ARMS 

He was almost breathless and the Queen had twice to 
command him to speak before he could tell her what was 
the matter, but finally he managed to stammer out in a 
a clear firm voice : 

“Three snails, Your Highness, — they are coming here, 
— I met them but a little Way from our gates and they 
attacked me so that I should not live to reach home. But 
I got away from them and I have crawled all the way 
to warn you, — I couldn’t fly for they broke one of my 
wings in the fight. There is no time to be lost, they will 


IN MEADOWLAND 


35 

soon be upon us.” With the last words he sank down 
exhausted at the foot of the throne. 

And for the moment he lay there unheeded. 

At a word from the Queen the herald standing beside 
her blew three blasts on a tiny bugle and one could have 
heard a pin drop as the bees waited in perfect silence for 
their Queen to speak. 

Holding her scepter high above her head she said in 
a clear firm voice: 

“To arms, my subjects, and prepare yourself to destroy 
the enemies which are marching against us to steal our 
honey and to hurt our babies. There will be no new 
queens if they are not conquered. Be brave, my people, 
and save our city from these wicked invaders. General 
Bumble, you take command of the town itself, and to you, 
Colonel Buzza, I give the charge of the outside gates, 
while you, Captain Busy, shall take command of the 
forces that guard the nursery and the honey cells. To 
your places now, and do your duty, I command you in 
the name of our Kingdom!” 

In a second the scene became one of bustling excite- 
ment, but in a surprisingly short time the officers had re- 
cruited their companies, and all the fighting bees had 
taken their places in the ranks and were marking time 
with their feet. 

If he hadn’t been so afraid that something terrible was 
going to happen to his new-found friends, Peter would 
have laughed out loud, for each soldier had six feet 
instead of two to mark time with and they did it with a 
funny sort of shuffle that was very comical to see. 

The Queen waited until all the bee army had fallen 
into line and then she took her station at the head of the 
detachment that was to guard the nursery and the food 
cells. 

“Your Queen is ready to fight and to die with you,” she 
said, holding her brave head high. “Let us lose no more 
time, but take the stand to which we have been assigned. 
Come, General, we are awaiting your orders.” 


36 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

“Ready. Forward, march!” commanded General 
Bumble, who, Peter hurriedly noticed, seemed to be as 
broad as he was long and wore upon his velvet coat sev- 
eral medals, — or that was what they looked like to the 
boy at first glance. 

Peter would have joined their ranks, but they had 
neither the time nor the thought for him then, and before 
he could say “Jack Robinson” he found himself standing 
by the deserted throne, watching the open door on the 
other side of the room, through which the last soldier had 
just disappeared. 

He had forgotten all about the messenger who had 
come in such frantic haste to warn the Queen, and it was 
with quite a start that he now noticed him lying on the 
floor just as he had fallen. 

Just at that moment the bee groaned and tried to get 
up on its feet, but it was too weak to do so and fell back 
again sadly murmuring, “Water, somebody give me some 
water.” 

Peter knelt beside him and said anxiously, 

“I will get you some if you will only tell me where to 
find it. There is no one here now but me, and I am a 
stranger, you know, but if you will only show me which 
way to go I’ll bring you some as quick as I can.” 

The messenger’s eyes were closed but when he heard 
the strange voice he opened them in a hurry. 

“Well, who on earth are you?” he gasped in amaze- 
ment. “I never remember seeing you before. If you 
were not so little I should think you were a boy, but I 
never saw a Human as tiny as you are in my life. Oh 
dear me, how my head does ache ! I believe I bumped 
it when I fell or else one of those dreadful snails hurt it 
in the fight. It seems as if I should choke to death. I 
must have water. Let me think, — you go out that door 
and then turn to the right or is it the left? — oh, mercy, 
my poor old head! it hurts so I can’t remember. I am 
almost sure that the well is at the end of the left-hand 
passage — or no, I mean the right, at least I think ” 

“Now, Whizz, don’t try to think any more, old chap. 


IN MEADOWLAND 


37 

Just drink this water and you will feel much better,” 
spoke a jolly voice unexpectedly at Peter’s ear. 

XV 

DAWDLER TURNS DOCTOR 

Peter jumped in spite of himself, for he had no idea 
that there was anybody in the room but the messenger 
and himself, and he was still more, surprised to see the 
dandified Dawdler bend over the wounded bee and gently 
raise its head so that it could drink from his hat which he 
had filled with water. 

“There, poor fellow,” he said, “that ought to brace 
you up a bit. You must have had a hard time of it to 
come back battered up like this. If you will roll over 
on your side I will bind up your wing. I have brought 
a splint and bandages along with me and the sooner I get 
at it the better it will be for you.” 

The bee obediently rolled over on his side and Dawd- 
ler lost no time in setting to work. He took from under 
his wing two of the tiniest of stems and placing the 
broken wing’ between them he firmly and quickly bound 
it up with a long piece of grass which he tied in a neat 
knot at the end. 

“There now, that fixes you up all right, my friend. 
Come on now, and I’ll help you on your feet, — careful, 
careful, don’t hit that wing or you will loosen the 
splints.” 

After one or two attempts the wounded bee finally 
clambered to his feet and the minute that he had done so 
he seemed to forget all about his trouble and seizing 
the doctor’s front leg he shook it vigorously. 

“Well, you were certainly Johnny-on-the-spot that 
time, all right, and I do believe that you have saved my 
life. Thanks a thousand times, old man. I’ll do as 
much for you some day. Now tell me, did I get here in 
time and did our Queen heed my warning?” 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


38 

So quickly had everything happened that Peter had 
not found time to say a word, and besides he had been 
fai J too interested in watching Dawdler bind up the 
broken wing. But now he could keep quiet no longer. 

“I should think she did,” he said quickly, “and I 
must say I thought it very strange that she should call 
the whole army together to fight just three little snails. 
I simply can’t imagine why so many of you should fear 
so few. In my country we fight more fairly than that.” 

This remark seemed to make the messenger very 
angry. 

“The very idea!” he snorted. “You don’t know a 
thing about it. Who cares about what they do in your 
country! Three large snails — and they were not little 
ones either, let me tell you, — are powerful enough, if 
they are not stopped in time, to enter our town, break 
into our cells, eat up our honey, and destroy all the 
eggs which by and by will turn into little bees. And 
even if the eggs were not touched, the baby bees would 
never live to be workers, for we would all starve to 
death this winter without our food. We know what 
we are doing and our Queen acted just as she should. 
What do you suppose I nearly killed myself to warn 
her for? I must say that you are an impudent creature, 
coming into our town and telling us what’s what! I 
suppose you will be informing me next that there was 
nothing the matter with me and that it was all foolish- 
ness to bind up my wing.” 

“Why, no, I wouldn’t,” declared the boy. “Didn’t 
I try to help you? I would have brought you the water 
you wanted if I had known where to find it. I was very 
sorry for you, for you did look awfully sick. But just 
because I said I didn’t understand a thing is no reason 
why you should jump on me like that. It is you who 
are impolite, for I am your guest, — the Queen said so.” 

“Did she?” demanded Whizz of the other bee. 

“I rather think she did, old chap,” said Dawdler 
with a short laugh, “and what is more she appointed me 
his chief guide and adviser while he is here. But after 


IN MEADOWLAND 39 

all it is work that I shall not mind doing, for I think 
he is going to be a good sport after he knows us. Any- 
how, it is high time that we stopped squabbling and went 
to see what is going on.. While I was drawing the water 
I heard sounds of fighting and was tempted to find out. 



*SHE APPOINTED ME HIS CHIEF 
GUIDE A HID ADVISOR” 


what was happening, but I knew you couldn’t get much 
farther until your wing was bound and I remembered 
that the Boy was all alone and didn’t know where to go, 
so I decided to come back. But now that we understand 
each other let’s go and find out.” 

He clapped his high hat on his head at the same 
jaunty angle that it had been on before, took a linger- 


40 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

ing look at himself in the tiny mirror, and bringing the 
cane out from its mysterious hiding-place under his 
wing, he swung it in his usual airy manner, and then 
tapped Peter lightly with it upon the back. 

“Well, comrade,” said he merrily, “are you ready to 
see the sights, even if the first one does happen to be a 
battle? If you are, follow me!” 

He started off on a brisk walk and Peter and Whizz 
had to hurry to catch up with him. 

XVI 

THE INVADERS 

They had not gone very far before they heard a queer 
noise that sounded as though a great many sewing-ma- 
chines were being run at full speed all at once. Puzzled, 
Peter was just going to ask what it meant when Dawdler 
turned to Whizz and exclaimed, — 

“There is certain to be work for me to do in a little 
while; what a lucky thing after all that you got hurt, 
old chap, so that I am all ready to perform first aid to 
the injured with my splints and bandages. The workers 
never buzz so furiously as they are doing now unless 
they are very much excited, and they never get so ex- 
cited unless they sight the enemy or there is a prospect 
of a fight between the queen bees. When they do, they 
always lose their heads and push so hard that there is 
very apt to be somebody hurt in the crush.” 

“Do you think that General Buzza will be able to 
hold the outer gates?” asked Whizz nervously. 

“I am very much afraid that he will not,” answered 
Dawdler sadly. “In fact it sounds to me as if the in- 
vaders had already broken through his lines and were 
right at our very doors. Now that a battle is on how I 
wish that I wasn’t a man, so that I could fight.” 

“Well, that is the funniest thing that I have heard yet! 


IN MEADOWLAND 


41 

What do you mean?” asked Peter eagerly. “Among my 
people it is the men that do the fighting. I have been 
wanting to ask you why you didn’t march away with the 
others, but I thought that you might not like it. But 
since you mentioned it yourself, why didn’t you?” 

“Because I am a drone, Boy,” said Dawdler sharply. 
“And we drones who are the men of Beeville are given 
no work to do and so we become weak and unable to 
accomplish anything worth while, and we have no stings, 
so we can’t fight. And "because we act in the way that 
nature intended us to, and are happy just to be living, 
with plenty to eat and the bright sunshine to stroll in, 
the other bees poke fun at us whenever they can. But I 
am not as contented with my lazy lot as they think I am; 
so, although even our Queen doesn’t know it, I gradu- 
ated from Doctor Saw’s school yesterday as a full- 
fledged M. D. I have pasted my diploma in my hat, — 
I’ll show it to you when I have time. Hello there, — 
what was that? Don’t you hear cries? Come, hurry, 
the workers are calling for help. We can’t do much, 
but our place is with them instead of wasting precious 
minutes in talking.” 

The words were hardly out of his mouth when a bee 
came running towards them crying, — 

“All is lost, all is lost, the enemy have forced open 
our gates and are entering the town. Our Queen and 
our babies will be destroyed. -Oh, oh, what a terrible 
misfortune has come upon us! We go to die with the 
Queen J” 

Her sad cry was taken up by one bee after another, — 
a swarm of them came hastening by, bent on sharing 
the fate of their beloved ruler. But Dawdler, after 
hearing the first sad wail, paid no attention to the others 
and in spite of their warnings hurried in the direction of 
the gates. And Peter followed after him as fast as he 
could go. 

A dreadful sight met their eyes. All about on the 
floor lay the bodies of bees who had valiantly sacrificed 


42 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


themselves in a vain effort to crush the invaders; workers 
were flying back and forth in wild confusion uttering 
hopeless cries; and crawling slowly but surely into the 
hive — in fact his body was already half-way through the 
door — was a great black slimy snail, and close behind 
his shell could be seen the heads of his two companions. 

Their fat horns trembled with greed for the sweet 
honey on which they expected soon to feast, and the bees 
could do little to stop their progress, for whenever the 
angry workers swooped down in an attempt to sting them 
to death, as quick as lightning they drew their fat bodies 
back into their shells and the stings, sharp as they were, 
couldn’t pierce through the thick shells and so didn’t 
hurt them a bit. 

It was no wonder that the poor bees were so fright- 
ened, there did not seem to be a possible way to stop 
them, and Peter was trying to think of a plan by which 
the Queen who had been so kind to him could escape 
from the cruel enemy, when suddenly his arm hit against 
something hard in his coat pocket. Quickly putting in 
his hand he drew out his old pen-knife which he found 
to his astonishment had not only stayed in his pocket in 
spite of his fall but had become tiny just as he had him- 
self. A bright idea flashed into his mind. 

“Hurrah,” he shouted, “I have it,” and he clapped 
the surprised Dawdler so heartily upon the back that the 
latter’s high hat fell off on the floor. 

“Have what?” snapped the indignant bee. 

“A plan,” shouted Peter. “I am going to kill that old 
snail so he can’t hurt your babies or your honey. Just 
you come with me and you will see something, I can tell 
you.” 

“I don’t see what on earth you can do, but I might as 
well be in the front lines as anywhere, and I always did 
want to be in at the finish,” said the dude airily, as he 
again cocked his tiny hat at a jaunty angle and swinging 
his cane vigorously in the air he helped to clear a pas- 
sage through the angry, swarming bees for himself and 
Peter and the wounded, but faithful, Whizz. 


IN MEADOWLAND 


43 


XVII 

TO THE RESCUE 

• 

Some of the bees didn’t seem quite sure whether Peter 
was advancing as friend or foe, and fearing that he was 
going to the help of the enemy, buzzed about him and 
acted as though they were going to sting him; but when 
they saw that he was being aided to reach the front by 
Dawdler, they knew he must be all right and hovered 
above him, waiting to see what he would do. 

Mr. Snail had been very cautious and had taken a 
long time to get where he was, for at the first sign of 
danger to himself he would jump back into his shell 
where he was safe from all harm, and so close behind 
him were his two followers that they were obliged to 
act just as he did and could only throw out their long 
slimy bodies when he had gotten far enough ahead of 
them to allow them to. But the delicious odor of the 
honey made the leader less careful and more anxious to 
get to it as fast as possible and just as Peter reached 
him he threw himself as far out of his shell as he could 
and commenced to crawl along unprotected, but making 
more speed than he had when he was within his case. 

Peter remembered how he had used to play mumblety- 
peg with the boys at school, and taking aim with a steady 
hand he threw his opened knife straight at the soft body 
of the enemy. Too late the snail saw it coming, but it 
caught and pinned him tightly to the ground before he 
could hide within his shell. 

With a great buzz of joy, the bees fell upon him and 
stung him again and again and then pressed about Peter, 
fanning him gratefully with their wings and singing to 
him a pretty song in which they called him their de- 
liverer. 

As for Dawdler, he looked as pleased and as proud 
as though he had done it himself. 

“Didn’t I tell you that he was a good sport?’’ cried he 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


44 

to Whizz. “And you said you were a male too, I be- 
lieve,” he continued turning to Peter. “I shall not feel 
so badly because I am one, after this; perhaps I may be 
able to do something useful too, one of these days. But 
you had better go and get your weapon before the work- 
ers cover it up. See, they are beginning to work already.” 

“To cover it up,” asked the boy. “What do they want 
to do that for?” 

“Oh, you don’t know about our customs, do you?” 
said Whizz. “Do let’s go closer and watch them, 
have seen them entomb Mr. Snail lots of times, but I 
always find it very interesting and I am sure that you 
will think our workers are very clever. Come on and 
help them drag the body away from the door.” 

“All right,” said Peter, “of course I will. But aren’t 
you afraid that the other two snails will get in?” 

“Oh, there’s no danger of that now,’ said Dawdler 
laughing. “They have seen w r hat happened to their 
leader and they will be afraid to poke out their heads and 
we shall put them out into the street and entomb them 
there. This fellow will have to be done inside here, 
though. He is too heavy to drag very far. And be- 
sides he will stand forever as a monument to your valor 
and to our brave fight against so horrible a creature.” 

Peter did find that the fat snail was very heavy 
indeed, for he and the bees tried with all their might 
to move him but were barely able to get him away to 
one side so that he would not block up the passage and 
they were all so tired that they decided to leave him 
right there. 

Then a great number of bees swarmed upon him and 
taking lumps of wax from out of the pockets on their 
bodies they moistened and made it soft by rolling it 
about in their mouths; then drawing out little tools 
from the baskets on their legs they pressed down this 
wax at different places all over the snail’s fat body and 
shell. So many of them were working together and they 
kept changing places with each other so often that it 


IN MEADOWLAND 


45 

hardly seemed any time at all before Peter saw before 
him the strangest sort of a form and he would never 
have known what it was if he had not watched the bees 
at work. 

“There,” said Dawdler at last, “that’s done, and 
there is one more enemy who will never hurt our babies 
and don’t you think that he is finely entombed?” 

“I really don’t know very much about it,” said Peter, 
“but he looks so to me. Will you please tell me why 
they took all the trouble to cover him with wax? He 
was dead already and couldn’t do any damage.” 

“Oh, yes, he could, my friend,” interrupted Whizz. 
“If he had stayed as he was he would have poisoned the 
hive. The wax keeps him from doing that, you know. 
And look there, will you? It is just as Dawdler said it 
would be. The workers have already rolled the other 
two snails back into the street and are beginning to seal 
them up inside of their own shells. That’s one disad- 
vantage in carrying your house with you wherever you go. 
You have no place to run to for safety. If you get into 
trouble so does your house, and it can’t protect you one 
bit.” 


XVIII 

TELLING TIME IN BEEVILLE 

It was impossible for Dawdler to keep still for very 
long at ‘a time and he bustled about among the wounded 
bees, giving them first aid with his tiny splints and band- 
ages; and the poor bees were so grateful that they ca- 
ressed his coat with their long tongues as he bent over 
them. 

Whizz wanted to help the workers carry away the 
bodies of the bees who had lost their lives defending the 
hive, but Peter wouldn’t let him. 

“See here, old fellow,” he said, “let me take your 


46 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

place. You have a broken wing and there isn’t a thing 
the matter with me. You stay right here and tell me 
what to do and see how well I can obey you.” 

So Whizz took his advice and crawled up on the top 
of the entombed snail where he would be out of the 
way of the workers, and from his perch he buzzed 
orders to Peter who did his level best to carry them 
out. 

Several times the boy bumped into a bee, and once 
he stepped upon one’s foot but they didn’t act a bit cross 
about it and only said, “Why certainly, sir,” when he 
politely begged their pardon. 

So quickly did they work that in no time at all the 
hall was cleared and the bees flew busily in and out of 
the door, each on its own task bent and just as if a few 
minutes before they had not taken part in a terrible 
battle. Peter noticed several of the bees, who had flown 
away so sadly to die with the Queen, coming back and 
they recognized him too and called him “dear brother” 
as they passed him. He was wondering whether he 
would slip and fall on the wax if he tried to climb up 
beside Whizz, when Dawdler tapped him lightly on the 
back with his cane. 

“Well done, old sport!” cried he. “I think you have 
earned a good square meal. I am sure I have and I am 
ready for it too, I can tell you. How do you feel about 
it?” 

“To tell the truth,” said Peter with a little laugh, 
“I am nearly starved I really don’t believe that I 
have ever been so hungry before in all my life. I have 
not had a thing to eat since morning and it must be late 
in the day now. I wish that I had finished my break- 
fast,” and he sighed regretfully as he thought of the 
extra fine egg that he had left untouched upon his plate. 
“What time is it anyway?” 

“It’s . feeding time,” said Whizz suddenly. “I have 
known it for several moments.” 

“Oh, have you a watch?” asked the boy eagerly. 
“Then you can tell me what hour it really is.” 


IN MEADOWLAND 


47 

“Watch nothing,” said Whizz in a disgusted way. 
“What do I need a watch for ! I have a stomach, haven’t 
I and that tells me what time it is. And I really don’t 
know what you mean by ‘hour.’ ” 

“Why, that’s how we divide our days,” explained the 
boy. “There are sixty minutes to an hour and twenty- 
four hours to a day, you know!” 

“That all sounds like nonsense to me,” said Whizz 
crossly. “What is the reason for doing that? We divide 
our day into feeding and sleeping time; and we don’t 
need a watch — whatever that may be — to tell us when 
they come either. We generally know by our own feel- 
ings. And the morning glories and the four o’clocks 
would be sure to remind us if we should happen to for- 
get.” 

“For mercy’s sake!” interrupted Dawdler hurriedly, 
“do stop arguing, you two, and come with me to the 
dining room. The Queen must be waiting, for of course 
she would never dream of dining until I arrive.” So 
saying, the fat fellow puffed out his chest with pride 
and linked his wing into Peter’s arm. 

“I didn’t mean to argue,” said Peter. “I thought 
Whizz wanted to know what an hour was. But perhaps 
Her Majesty will not wish me to dine with her. After 
all, I’m not a bee, and I’ve really no right to eat up your 
food.” 

“No right after you have saved us all from the wicked 
snails? You’re a modest chap and I like you all the 
better for it, but you are all wrong. Of course she wants 
you, and you will see how welcome you will be. Come 
along now, like good fellows, without wasting any more 
time.” 

Whizz now flew down and joined them and off they 
started for the dining room; and close behind them 
swarmed hundreds of other bees evidently bound for the 
same place. 

Peter had an idea that it would take them some time 
to reach the banquet hall, but Dawdler led the way 
around a sharp corner and suddenly he and his com- 


48 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

panions were standing in one end of the largest room 
that Peter had yet seen. 


XIX 

HAIL TO THE HERO ! 

It was quite evident that their arrival had been ex- 
pectantly awaited, for no sooner had they crossed the 
threshold than a great shout of welcome arose, and 
Dawdler nudged Peter. 

“There, you see,” said he with a very self-satisfied 
air. “It’s just as I told you. Her Majesty has been 
waiting until I arrived before ordering the dinner 
served. Now, don’t you be a bit nervous about coming 
here uninvited. The Queen is very fond of me, you 
know, and as soon as I tell her that you are my guest 
everything will be all right. You stay right here and I’ll 
go and fix the matter up. I will try to get you a seat be- 
side Whizz so that you will not feel lonely. I am afraid 
that you won’t be near me, for my place is by Her Royal 
Highness. But trust me, old sport, and I’ll do the best 
I can for you.” 

He carefully twirled his feelers (“for all the world 
as Dad does his mustache,” thought the boy), cocked 
his hat at a more jaunty angle than ever and was just 
starting off when suddenly he turned about and looked 
at Peter. 

“Well, did you ever!” he exclaimed, and the boy 
could see that he was much provoked about something. 
“Do you hear what they are crying?” 

Peter had been conscious of a confused murmuring 
ever since they entered, but he had been so interested 
in watching the bees as they swarmed into the room and 
in trying to catch a glimpse of the Queen that he had not 
paid much attention to what was being said. Now that 
Dawdler mentioned it, however, he began to listen and 
it seemed to him that he heard something that sounded 


IN MEADOWLAND 


49 


suspiciously like “Boy, Boy!” but he was not quite sure. 
He was just going to ask Whizz if he thought that could 
be it — Dawdler looked so angry that he didn’t dare 
speak to him — when the clear notes of the same tiny 
trumpet that he had heard when he had first entered 
Beeville rang out, and as they died away hundreds and 
hundreds of bee voices united in a song of greeting, but 
instead of welcoming Dawdler it was to Peter himself 
that they were crying: — 


“Hail to the boy from Human Land 
Who gave to us a helping hand; 

Who with his jack-knife slew the foe, 
That came to plunder and cause us woe.” 


“Hail to the stranger with heart so bold, 

May the friendship between us never grow cold; 

May he come as he likes and go as he will, 

The Bees bid him welcome and honor his skill!” 

Then “Hail, hail, hail!” chanted the bees, as they 
finished the song of welcome. At the last word the 
trumpet sounded-, again and, as if by magic, the bees 
separated and massed themselves in two groups on either 
side of a long aisle, and way down at the other end of 
this aisle Peter at last caught sight of the Queen. 

Surrounded by her courtiers, she was talking to the 
trumpeter, and just at that moment, evidently at her 
command, he bowed low before Ijer, turned sharply 
about and started down the aisle straight towards Peter. 

Dawdler had not spoken for some time, in fact he had 
not noticed Peter at all after calling his attention to the 
Bees’ song, and Peter was afraid that he was very cross 
indeed; so he turned to Whizz to ask him what it was all 
about, when Dawdler spoke. 

“Well, old sport, why don’t you say something?” he 
demanded. “Didn’t I tell you that you’d be welcome? 
What do you think about it now? Though I must say 
I am rather surprised, for I thought of course it was I 
for whom the Queen was waiting, but I find it is you. 
Though I do think that Her Majesty might have sent 


50 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

me word about all this fuss ! But there, Pm a conceited 
old chap and I know it, but after all it isn’t my fault. 
I can’t help being so handsome, can I? But I will say 
one thing: that if the Queen has forgotten me, I am 
glad that she has remembered you. You deserve it all, 
Boy, that you do. Here’s my leg on it.” Peter was 
delighted to see his old friend smile again and shook 
hands with him heartily. 


XX 

THE QUEEN THANKS PETER 

By this time the trumpeter had reached them, and 
he bowed low before Peter. 

“Noble Sir,” said he, “Her Majesty demands your 
presence at her side. I have come to conduct you and 
you,” turning to Dawdler, “to places beside her.” 

“So she did think of me after all,” said Dawdler in a 
pleased tone. “Not but what she should, though, for I 
am her brother, you know. Come on, Boy, are you 
ready? It isn’t polite to keep the Queen waiting, — nor 
wise either,” he added under his breath. 

“Do I really have to go?” asked Peter nervously. 
“I am ever so much obliged to Her Majesty, but I’d 
much rather stay here with Whizz. You thank her for 
me, won’t you ?” 

“I should say not,” answered his friend decidedly. 
“It would be as much as my life is worth to do a thing 
like that!” 

“Are you afraid of the Queen?” asked the boy cu- 
riously. “I thought you said that you were her brother.” 

“So I am, but that doesn’t count for much in Bee- 
ville, you know. Didn’t I tell you that they do not think 
very highly of the males in our land? But for goodness 
sake, hurry up, will you, and let’s get started. You will 
get us both into trouble if you insist upon talking any 
longer.” 


IN MEADOWLAND 


5 \ 

a I should say you would,” said Whizz unexpectedly, 
for he had not spoken a word since they entered the 
banquet hall. “I wouldn’t be in either of your shoes 
if the Queen loses her temper and she is liable to if 
she doesn’t get something to eat pretty soon. See, she 
is motioning to you now. Take my advice and go 
quickly ! It seems to me that you don’t show much 
appreciation, Boy, for all Her Majesty is doing for you. 
You ought to be glad that she honors you!” 

“Well I am, but ” 

“Never, mind any ‘huts’,” interrupted Dawdler. 
“Come on!” 

There seemed to be no way out of it, so making up 
his mind to make the best of it Peter started down the 
long aisle by the side of Dawdler, and the trumpeter 
walked in front of them, blowing his trumpet as he went. 

The Queen, in spite of what Whizz and Dawdler 
had said, seemed far from being in an ill temper. She 
waved her wing to Peter as he approached and smiled 
upon them both so sweetly that the boy lost all his fear 
at once and became quite anxious to talk to her. 

“Welcome, dear Boy,” she said. “We Bees owe you 
a debt of gratitude that we can never repay. Accept the 
thanks of my people for all that you have done.” 

“Oh, that’s all right, Your Honor, — I mean Your 
Majesty,” stammered Peter very much embarrassed. 
“Please don’t thank me, I didn’t do much. But I am 
glad if I did help a little. I shall never forget how good 
you were to me and how you didn’t believe that I was a 
thief after your honey.” 

“Of course I didn’t, not for a minute. And how do 
you like Dawdler?” 

“Oh, he’s my best friend, Your Majesty. He’s been 
taking very good care of me indeed.” 

“Well, as to that, I’m not so sure. It seems to me 
that it is you who have taken care of all of us! But he 
is a fine fellow, after all. The only thing that can be 
said against him is that he is a bit fond of himself. But 
we really couldn’t get along without him.” 


52 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

Dawdler was so pleased to hear the Queen say such 
nice things about him that he had hard work to keep 
from smiling, but he did manage to say with as much 
dignity as he could command: 

“Thanks, my Queen. I shall try to deserve your 



// 


ACCEPT THE THAMKS OFMYPEOP1E 
FOR AUUTHAT YOU HAVE DOME " 

kindness. But may I ask Your Highness when we are 
to eat? The Boy has had nothing at all since early 
morning.” 

“What a shame!” said the Queen. “He must be 
starved and here we are wasting precious time in talk- 
ing. We are to eat immediately and you, Boy, are to 
sit at my right and Dawdler at my left. Give the signal 
that the meal is ready, trumpeter!” 


IN MEADOWLAND 


53 

At the call to dinner the bees who had been crawling 
about in such swarms that Peter could see nothing but 
their moving bodies suddenly became quiet and in an 
orderly manner took their places and made ready to 
eat. 

XXI 

THE BANQUET OF THE BEES 

As they stopped moving about, Peter saw at one side 
of the hall a long table, and all around it were tiny little 
stools, and both the table and stools were of wax. And 
when he had seated himself beside the Queen he found 
in front of him the tiniest of plates and a spoon and a 
cup and they also were made of wax. 

He was wondering what they were going to have to 
eat when a bee flew down upon his shoulder and politely 
asked : 

“Will you have some honey, Sir, and a little dew of 
roses r 

He didn’t know just what “dew of roses” was, but 
he said he would like to have some of both, and in the 
twinkling of an eye the flying waitress had dropped a 
square of honey upon his plate and poured something 
into his cup. He was so hungry and so anxious to taste 
this new food that he was delighted to have the Queen 
turn to him and say: 

“See how you like our delicacies, Boy. We are espe- 
cially proud of our honey, you know. No one else in the 
world can make it as we do.” 

Peter didn’t wait for a second invitation, and he 
thought that never had he tasted anything so delicious. 
As for the dew of roses it was sweet as sugar and yet it 
had about it a faint odor that somehow reminded him 
of his mother’s perfumery. 

After a while, when he had eaten enough to satisfy 
his hunger, he began to look curiously about him and he 
saw a number of things that he had not noticed before. 


PETER S ADVENTURES 


54 

The walls seemed to be made of cells, most of them 
small and narrow, but a few of them were round and 
much larger than the others. About all of these cells 
bees were flying back and forth continually and at last 
Peter discovered that they were actually opening the 
doors of the cells and pushing something into them and 
then hastily flying off to others, after securely shutting 
the doors. 

At last his curiosity got the better of him and he 
turned to the Queen. 

“What in the world are those bees doing, Your Maj- 
esty?” he asked. “I have been watching them and I 
can’t make it out.” 

The Queen laughed. 

“I don’t wonder,” she said. “It would be hard for 
any one who did not know our customs to solve the 
puzzle. Those bees that you see are the nurse bees and 
they are feeding our babies. In those tiny cells are the 
worker bees and they are receiving their dinner of bee 
bread. But in those large round cells are the new Queen 
bees and the nurses are giving them their fill of the 
choicest of dainty bee-foods.” 

“Queen bees,” exclaimed Peter in great surprise. 
“Why on earth do you want more Queens? You rule 
your people well, and they love you.” 

“You don’t know a thing about us, do you, Boy?” 
said the Queen gently and rather sadly, Peter thought. 
“Yes, my people do love me now, at least some of them 
do; but others are restless and want a change of govern- 
ment. And it is my duty as ruler to give my subjects 
what they want if it is good for them. So when the new 
Queens come I shall go away and those who love me 
will follow me and the others will stay. For there can 
be only one Queen in a hive at a time.” 

“But dear Queen, what will you do then?” questioned 
the boy. 

“Start a new kingdom of course and rule over it until 
it is time for the same thing to happen again.” 

She looked very sad and Peter was sorry for 


IN MEADOWLAND 55 

her. But he didn’t know what to say, so he helped 
himself to another bit of honey and waited for her to 
speak of her own accord. 


XXII 

A NEW QUEEN COMES TO COURT 

When Her Majesty did speak again, however, Peter 
was much astonished, for her voice which had been so 
gentle now sounded very angry. 

“Let me tell you one thing, Boy,” she said fiercely, 
“we Queens can fight when we have to, and when we 
do it is a fight to the finish. And all day long I have 
had a feeling that I should have to fight before long. I 
shall not give up my throne without a protest, though it 
is not very likely that my subjects will pay any atten- 
tion to me. I am sure that I heard one of the celled 
Queens singing as I passed by a little while ago. If I 
hear her again I shall certainly do my best to quiet her.” 

“Singing — in a cell!” exclaimed Peter in amazement. 
“How can she?” 

“Oh, she can all right when she is about to burst forth 
and start a rebellion in my kingdom!” snapped the 
Queen, who appeared to be growing crosser and crosser. 
“Yes, I was right. The end is coming sooner than I 
thought. Do you see that crowd gathering about that 
first large cell? The bees hear the new Queen singing 
her birth song and they are waiting for her to leave her 
prison and when she comes out they will welcome her 
gladly and forget all about me.” 

“Oh, I can hardly believe that,” said the boy to com- 
fort her; but he was becoming a little anxious, for he 
noticed that the bees really were forming into groups 
and he wondered what would happen to him if they all 
got to fighting among themselves. 

“You will see in a moment that what I say is true,” 
declared the Queen nervously. Watch how the bees are 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


56 

leaving the table before I have finished, a thing they 
would never have dared do before. I shall call them 
back, but it will do no good. They will pay no heed to 
my voice.” 

Rising from her seat, Her Majesty cried: 

“Return to your places, my subjects. Your Queen 
commands you!” But it was as she had said. Only a 
few bees obeyed her. 

Then she became very angry indeed, and would pay 
no attention to Dawdler, who was trying to calm her. 
Shaking off his hold, she rushed forward and tried to get 
at the cell of the singing Queen, but although the bees 
did not hurt her they massed about the cell door and 
would not let her near it. 

Then Peter heard a crackling sound and Dawdler 
cried : 

“The new Queen is bursting the walls, soon she will 
be out. Makt ready all you who love our own Queen to 
follow where she leads. She has been the mother and 
ruler of you all and with your help she can start another 
kingdom. Long live the new Queen, but let us follow 
our own loved one!” 

It was very evident by this time that Her Majesty 
had resigned herself to giving up her throne, for she 
made no further attempt to hurt the coming Queen, 
but turning away she waved a sad good-by to Peter and 
flew slowly out of the door; and after her flew the bees 
who were loyal. 

“So long, old chap,” said Dawdler, who was the last 
to go, “I am sorry to leave you, but my duty is to be at 
the side of my Queen. We may meet again some time,” 
and without waiting until the boy could ask him how, he 
too flew out of the door and by his side was the faithful 
Whizz. 

The boy felt very lonely without his friends, but he 
didn’t have much time to think about himself, for with a 
final great crackling the walls of the cell burst open and 
the new Queen came forth. 

Peter could tell at once that she was going to be a 


IN MEADOWLAND 57 

very haughty ruler indeed, for she lifted her head with a 
true royal air and spreading her wings proudly waved 
them before the admiring bees. And she was really a 
very beautiful Queen. Her legs shone like gold and 
her dress was of rich velvet and gold. 

The bees were evidently delighted at having such a 
lovely creature to rule over them, and one of the old 
Queen’s courtiers . stepped forward and fanned her 
gently with his wings and another brought her honey 
to eat and dew to drink. 

It was only a few moments, however, when Peter 
heard more crackling and looking up he saw that a 
second Queen was bursting out of a nearby cell. 

XXIII 

A FIGHT TO THE FINISH 

The first Queen was greatly delighted with the hom- 
age of the bees. Her joy, however, was not to last 
long, for so loud a noise did the walls make as they gave 
way that it attracted her attention and glancing around 
she saw the second bee coming out of her cell. 

So beautiful was this newcomer that she recognized 
her at once to be a Queen like herself. At the same mo- 
ment the lovely stranger caught sight of her. 

At first neither knew what to make of the other, for 
each of them had thought that she would be the one and 
only ruler of the realm. True to bee instinct, however, 
it was not very long before they realized they were rivals 
and that one of them must die, since according to the 
unbroken law of Beeville that there can be but one Queen 
at a time at court. 

And almost at the same moment rage seized them and 
they rushed madly at each other and began to fight. 

Peter was horrified to see the two beautiful Queens 
engaged in such a terrible struggle, but he supposed that 
the bees would separate them. He waited for a minute 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


58 

for them to do so, but when he found that they were 
not going to make a move he thought that it was time 
for him to interfere. But he was halted by the same 
bee who had insisted upon calling him a thief when he 
had first arrived. 

“Wait a minute, Boy,” she commanded. “What are 
you going to do now?” 

“I am going to try to make those Queens stop fight- 
ing,” said Peter eagerly. 

“You are going to do nothing of the kind,” answered 
the bee decidedly. “It seems to me that you are a 
forward fellow. You tumble into our home in a most 
mysterious manner — like a thief in the night I say, — 
you stay around here and eat up the food that we shall 
need for next winter and now here you come and have 
the impudence to interfere in a matter that does not in 
the least concern you and about which you know noth- 
ing.” 

“But they will hurt themselves, fighting soy” said 
Peter. “It’s really nothing to me, you know, but I think 
it is a shame for two such lovely insects to be injured.” 

“Nonsense!” snapped the disagreeable bee. “If you 
understood our customs you would not be so silly. We 
don’t interfere, just because we want them to hurt each 
other. Indeed, one of them must kill the other. We 
shall make them fight until one is dead.” 

“You are the crudest person I have ever met!” said 
the boy in disgust. “See, one of the poor Queens is tired 
out already. I believe, — yes, I am sure that it is the one 
who came out first. Surely you can let her rest for a 
while.” 

“Indeed we cannot. That would make the fight go 
on all the longer and we want it ended as soon as it can. 
There, I thought so. The second Queen just stung her 
rival under the wing and that finishes it. The struggle 
is over.” 

But it seemed as if the anger of the victorious bee had 
been growing stronger and without a glance at her vic- 
tim, who had fallen at her feet with a pitiful moan, she 


59 


IN MEADOWLAND 

rushed to the cells where the other baby Queens were 
waiting their turn to come out, and tearing down the 
waxen walls she stung each unsuspecting Queen bee so 
that she would die. 

Now at last her rage was at an end and she turned 
toward her waiting subjects and sang a song of triumph. 
The bees were very proud of her strength and beauty 
and not a bit angry at her cruelty, as the boy had half 
hoped that they would be. Forgetting all about their 
welcome to the first Queen, now lying lifeless at her 
rival’s feet, they proclaimed the latter the true ruler of 
the hive. 

“Long live our noble Queen!” they shouted, and the 
trumpeter blew his trumpet and the drones paid court 
to her and the workers in great joy set about repairing 
the walls of the open cells. 


XXIV 

THE OLD ORDER CHANGES 

So many exciting things had happened in such a short 
space of time that in his excitement Peter had not be- 
come fully conscious of the great change that had taken 
place in Beeville; but now that the bees were loud in 
paying homage to the new Queen who had appeared 
so suddenly among them, he began to realize that things 
were quite different, so far as he was concerned. 

He felt lonely and wondered if he was not an unwel- 
come guest under this new regime. The lovely Queen 
who had been so gracious to him had been deposed and 
had flown, — he knew not where. His staunch friend 
Dawdler had gone, — and even the faithful Whizz had 
taken to his wings in flight. Every one that he had 
known had forsaken him. He was now nothing but a 
stranger in a strange land. He looked about him, trying 
to see one familiar face, but not one did he find that he 
really knew, although of course he recognized most of 


6o 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


them by sight as bees who had been flying in and out of 
the hive, so busy about their own affairs that they had 
probably not even noticed him. At any rate he had not 
met them. 

“As soon as all this excitement is over,” he reasoned 
with himself, “the new Queen is going to ask what I am 
doing here. Of course, having just come out of her cell, 
she has never even heard of a boy and she may think 
that I am some strange and wicked creature who must 
be destroyed before I do her harm. I wouldn’t trust 
much to her kindness, — she was cruel enough to the 
other Queens. And since all her subjects stood quietly 
about and let her kin her rivals they certainly would not 
interfere to save me. Anyhow, I am not at all sure that 
there is a single bee here who knows who I am or that 
I saved the honey from the snails. And the very fact 
that I helped the other Queen might make this new 
one angry. Suppose, for instance, that Her Majesty 
decided that I was an enemy and ordered her subjects 
to seal me up in wax. A nice mummy I’d make!” 

Just at this point Peter noticed that a number of bees 
had grouped themselves in a corner and were looking 
at him and talking very earnestly together and he was 
quite sure that he was becoming an object of interest to 
the Queen. 

“The best thing that I can do,” thought he, “is not 
to risk any questions or explanations, but to get out of 
here just as quickly as I possibly can. Of course the new 
ruler might believe me and then again she might not, 
but I am not going to take any chances of spending the 
rest of my days as a wax statue, if I can help it.” 

But when the boy looked about for a way of escape 
he discovered that to get out of his present predicament 
was easier said than done. He couldn’t go back the way 
he had come, for the hole in the roof had been mended, 
and he knew he could never push his way out through 
the throngs at the front gate without being discovered 
and challenged. But even his difficulty was forgotten 
in the sight which he now saw. 


IN MEADOWLAND 


61 


For suddenly he found himself in the midst of a surg- 
ing crowd, all dancing and singing and waving their 
wings in great excitement, and at their head walked the 
new Queen, very regal and yet showing plainly that she 
was happy at the adoration of her subjects. 

“Where are they going, I wonder?” said he. “It 
certainly looks as if they were having some kind 
of a parade, but whatever it is, it is a good thing for me, 
for they are not paying me the least bit of attention. 
Nevertheless I should like to know what is up now!” 

' He must have spoken aloud, for to his amazement a 
shrill voice answered, — 

“Well, stranger, you can’t have been in Beeville long, 
because in the first place I would have seen you before 
and in the second place because you would certainly 
have recognized the performance that is now taking 
place as the coronation and wedding of our Majesty, 
the Queen.” 


XXV 

A ROYAL WEDDING 

The new comer spoke a trifle scornfudy and seemed 
quite puffed up with his own importance, but he appeared 
kindly enough and Peter was delighted to find at least 
one among the many bees, who did not think him an 
enemy. 

“It is very kind indeed of you to tell me,” he said 
gratefully. “All my old friends left with the old Queen 
and I was feeling rather out of it when you came along. 
Would you mind telling me where the wedding is to be 
and who is to be the bridegroom?” 

“If you mean who is to be her mate, why, nobody 
knows yet,” replied his new acquaintance. “The Queen 
will choose he/husband for herself. Look, they are out 
of sight already. If you want to see Her Majesty 
crowned and wedded follow me. We fly out right here 


62 


PETER S ADVENTURES 


where you see that opening.” And he spread his wings 
and was about to sail off, as the others had done. 

“But I can’t fly,” wailed Peter. “Do please wait a 
minute and tell me some other way to get out of here. 
I do want to go to the wedding but I am afraid I can’t 
unless you will help me.” 

Evidently the new courtier, puffed up as he was, was 
a kind-hearted chap, for he came at once to Peter’s 
side. 

“What are those things that look like wings (or at 
least they don’t look much like wings, come to think of 
it but they are in the place where wings ought to be), 
can’t you fly with them? But there, I see* that you 
can’t. I’ll have to help you, I guess. Here ! Hang 
on to my back legs and I will take you over the top in 
no time. I am used to carrying things on my back legs 
you know, — that is where the honey and pollen are 
packed and it doesn’t bother me a bit. One, two, three, 
ready, fly!” 

Doing as he was told, in the twinkling of an eye Peter 
found himself dangling in the air, and as it was not the 
most comfortable feeling in the world he was glad when 
he felt the ground under his feet once more and found 
himself out of the hive and in the open. Here his new 
acquaintance bade him a pleasant good-by and hurried off 
to his rightful place among the Queen’s courtiers. 

As for the Queen herself, she was flying about in 
the air with dizzy little dives and she reminded Peter 
of a baby who was just learning to walk, and at first 
he could not understand her awkwardness, but then he 
suddenly remembered. 

“Why, of course she can’t fly as the other bees do. 
She doesn’t know how. This is her first time out in 
the air. She is really doing wonderfully, considering 
that only a little while ago she was closed up tight in a 
cell. Now she isn’t flying so badly. Hurrah! that 
flight was the best yet.” 

Evidently her courtiers thought so too, for they 
cheered her wildly and, encouraged by their plaudits, 


IN MEADOWLAND 63 

she suddenly rose to a great height, and this time her 
course was steady and off she sailed into the blue of 
the sky, far,, far out of sight of the watching crowd. 
And by her side flew a beautiful bee whose yellow wings 
gleamed in the bright sunshine. 

Peter stood for some time straining his eyes to catch 
the first glimpse of the Queen as she returned, for only 
a bee or two had followed her and so he knew that 
come back she would, but suddenly his attention was at- 
tracted by sharp piercing cries of pain that seemed to 
come from the air and from the ground all about the 
large tree that stood a little way from him and from 
which the Queen had started on her flight. 

XXVI 

A HAPPY REUNION 

For a moment he could see nothing, but as he rushed 
towards the spot from which the piteous cries came he 
was horrified to find himself in the midst of the falling 
bodies of many bees. One almost knocked him over as 
it crashed against him, moaning bitterly: 

“Oh, oh, I am dying. Never more shall I sleep 
among the flowers, and to-day is so beautiful. Why, 
oh, why did I ever follow the Queen? I am lost, I 
am lost!” 

Peter bent over him, and raised his drooping head. 

“Poor old fellow,” he stammered, frightened at he 
knew not what. “What terrible thing has happened to 
you and to your brothers? How can I help? W-was 
it a battle, and w-what has your new Queen done?” 

“She has married, you know, and I am one of the 
bees that she did not choose as her husband, so I must 
die. There has been no battle, our own sisters have 
done this,” he gasped. 

“And is this a bee wedding?” cried the boy indig- 
nantly. “I must say it is a cheerful one. And what if 


64 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

she didn’t choose you, what does any one care ! What is 
there about that to die for?” 

“Because, if we are not allowed to become good use- 
ful husband bees to our Queen (and there is only one 
Queen to a great many bachelor bees, woe is me!) we 
whom she does not choose are only drones. We are 
considered the tramps, the loafers of our tribe, fit only 
for death. We are not made so that we can work and 
yet we must eat, and so we are in the way. We must 
be destroyed. I am not worthy to be the husband of 
our Queen, or she would have chosen me, so it is right 
that I die. Farewell.” He closed his eyes and Peter 
knew that the little bee would never wake up to speak 
to him again. 

Sadly the boy walked on, not noticing where he was 
going, so deeply was he thinking about the fate of the 
idlers in Beeville, and it was not until he heard a tre- 
mendous buzzing right above his head (that he looked 
up from the ground. 

Above him on the branch of a tree swayed a great 
bunch of bees all arguing excitedly together, and he 
heard a familiar voice cry: 

“Hello there, old chap, — Boy, — Snail-killer, rescuer 
of the Bees — here — here! Wait a moment, I’ll come 
down and fetch you up,” and with the words a bee de- 
tached himself from the clinging mass and flew down to 
Peter’s side, and the boy was overjoyed to see his old 
friend, Dawdler. 

“Come on now,” said the latter. “Hop on my back 
and we will join the others. We are trying to decide 
where to make our new home. The Queen is anxious 
to please her followers, and we want to please her and 
so nothing seems to be getting settled.” 

After the Queen had greeted him joyously, Peter’s at- 
tention was distracted from the excited crowd about him 
by spying an approaching figure coming stealthily to- 
wards the branch on which the bees had gathered. It 
was a man, and a man as tall as the boy’s own father. 
About his head was wrapped a veil and on his hands 


IN MEADOWLAND 65 

were heavy gloves, and he carried a queer hollow, bell- 
shaped thing that looked like the lid of a coffee-pot but 
was made of straw. 

Peter meant to warn the bees, but he was so fas- 
cinated in watching the man that he forgot to speak. 
For some reason he seemed to know just what the man 
was going to do — somewhere, sometime he had seen 
him do it before. Yes, the man was coming closer — 
the next minute he would catch them all in that queer 
bell-like bowl. He must speak. 

“Quick, quick, fly,” — he cried, but it was too late. 
With one sudden movement the man had done what 
Peter feared. He had seized the branch in one hand 
and shaken the bees into that straw cage that he had 
held beneath them. In a twinkling of an eye the Queen, 
her courtiers and Peter were plunged into darkness. 

XXVII 

TAKEN PRISONERS 

To the boy it seemed rather a silly performance and 
he felt like laughing at the thought of being caught in 
the man’s trap in such a senseless manner, and at the 
same time he was provoked at himself for not having 
warned his companions sooner. But to the bees it was 
no laughing matter. They were bewildered as well as 
furious. 

“What has happened to us?” they cried in terror. 
“Where are we going? Who has trapped us?” 

The Queen tried to quiet them, but they were too 
frightened to heed her. They glared at Peter in no 
pleasant manner, and it did not take him long to see 
that they considered him the cause of their misfortunes. 
He even heard one or two of them mutter, — 

“Everything was well with us until he came. First 
there was the revolution, — who knows but that he 
started that? — and now we are taken captive!” 


66 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


He thought that it was high time that he cleared 
himself of blame in the matter and so he addressed 
the Queen in a loud voice. 

“Your Majesty,” said he, “I think that I can tell 
you what has happened, although it is not in the least 
my fault.” 

The bees stopped buzzing to listen to him, and the 
Queen asked him to explain matters if he could. And 
he continued. 

“First of all there is no harm coming to you, and 
perhaps what is happening to us now will prove the solu- 
tion of your problem as to where to found your new 
kingdom. A man saw you swarming on that branch 
and knowing that you had been dispossessed of your old 
home, thought that he would give you a new one in one 
of his hives.” 

“Indeed,” remarked the Queen sarcastically. “I sup- 
pose that for his kindness he intends to steal all the 
honey we make!” 

“He will take some of it, it is true,” admitted the 
boy. “But he will leave plenty for you to eat, — all 
that you will want. And during the winter he will feed 
you with sugar and he will be very kind to you. He 
loves bees or he would not have captured you.” 

The Queen, however, still seemed doubtful. 

“Has he any hens?” she asked. “Men usually do 
have, I’ve heard, and hens always eat bees.” 

“If he has, you are in no danger,” replied the boy. 
“If he has taken all this trouble to catch you, he will 
see to it that nothing harms you. The hives are very 
comfortable looking places and I feel sure that you will 
like them, but if you want to escape do as I tell you. 
Just as he is about to pour us out of here and empty 
us into the hive, you. Queen, crawl slyly out over the 
edge and down the side, and if you do it carefully he 
will never notice you at all. Once when I was a big 
boy I saw a man capture some bees in just this way, — 
that is why I know so much about it, and I remember 
him saying: “If once I lose the Queen bee I may as 


IN MEADOWLAND 67 

well let the others go, for they are no good at all with- 
out their ruler. 5 ’ 

This last remark was a fortunate one for it pleased 
the Queen. 

“Then Man is not so stupid as I thought he was,” 
she said with a satisfied air. “And I am glad that you 
have told us this, for you have relieved our fears and 
I have decided that the best thing for us to do is to 
accept graciously the new home that the man offers us. 
It really sounds very attractive to me. What do you 
say, my subjects?” 

“Fine, wonderful, Your Majesty,” cried the faithful 
followers in chorus. “If you trust the Boy, and he knows 
that the Man means us no harm, we will be very happy 
to enter our new kingdom so soon and with so little 
trouble.” 

No sooner had they voiced their approval than their 
strange carriage seemed to turn upside down and they 
all began to slide down its slippery sides, and then, in 
a jumble but quite unhurt the bees and the boy landed 
in the hive that the man had prepared for their recep- 
tion. 


XXVIII 

THE NEW KINGDOM 

It didn’t take the adaptable bees long to become ac- 
customed to their new home, and under the wise leader- 
ship of their Queen they grew to like it very much 
indeed. They hadn’t been there long before a group of 
workers appeared before the Queen who had been ac- 
companying Peter on a tour of inspection. 

“Come with us, Your Majesty, and see what we have 
just found,” they cried. “We would tell you, but we 
want to give you a pleasant surprise,” and dancing 
merrily about her the bees led their Queen towards a 
great lump of honeycomb that lay in a corner of the 
hive. 


68 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 

“Splendid,” declared Her Majesty enthusiastically. 
“What a generous man our new landlord is, and how 
did he happen to be so thoughtful as to provide this 
for us ! It will save you some little labor, my workers !” 

“He wants you to feel at home,” said Peter, who 
was delighted to act the part of interpreter* to the Queen, 
“He intends that you shall be very happy here.” 

“So we shall be” — commented Her Majesty and was 
interrupted by a number of bees who came staggering in 
through the open door, sneezing and coughing and hold- 
ing their noses, and she hastily added, — “if nothing 
dreadful happens to any of my people. What is the 
trouble now, I wonder!” She had not long to wait be- 
fore she found out. As soon as they could get their 
breaths the new comers gasped out, — 

“We have been tortured, Your Majesty. We man- 
aged to crawl out of that strange trap just as that crea- 
ture was about to dump us into this place, whatever 
it is, and we stayed outside on guard so that we could 
help you to escape if you made the attempt. We 
did our best to remain there, but we were suddenly 
enveloped by heavy thick smoke that blinded us so that 
we could not see and choked us so that we could not 
breathe and we were forced to crawl in here for shelter. 
This is a dangerous location for our home, Your Maj- 
esty. We may be smothered any moment.” 

Peter noticed that the Queen was becoming anxious, 
and he said hurriedly, — 

“Oh, no, you won’t, Your Majesty! It was these 
bees’ own fault that they were caught in the smoke. In 
fact there wouldn’t have been any if they had come in 
with us. The man made that smoke on purpose to 
drive them inside here so that they might find their 
proper places in the hive at once. He knew that they 
ought to have been by your side.” 

“Oh, that puts a different face on the matter,” said 
the Queen in relief. “And it served my foolish sub- 
jects right for not trusting to my judgment. When I 


IN MEADOWLAND 69 

decided to enter the new home, they should have come 
with me.” 

“Well, Your Majesty,” said one of the group in 
rather a shamefaced manner, “at least we saw a little of 
our surroundings while we were on guard. There are 
ever so many other hives just like this one and they are 
all full of bees, so we shall have plenty of neighbors, 
and I stopped a passing bee and asked him for a little 
information and he told me that this was the most aristo- 
cratic section of Beeville. He said that this particular 
colony was known as Bee Village. And he told us too 
that just beyond the hives is a beautiful garden full of 
flowers and among them are many that are blue and 
purple and red.” 

“Wonderful!” exclaimed the Queen, and all the bees 
waved their wings with joy, and Dawdler in an aside 
explained to Peter that the blue, purple and red flowers 
were favorites of the bees, for they made the most 
delicious honey. 

“And by the way,” he said, “now that we are about 
settled here, how would you like to make a few visits 
with me? We have a great many cousins in these parts 
and I should like you to meet them.” 

XXIX 

DAWDLER CALLS UPON HIS COUSINS 

“Fine,” said Peter eagerly. “I am ready to start any 
time that you are.” 

“Very well then, here we go. I asked Her Majesty’s 
permission some time ago. Hop on my back and we 
will make a morning of it.” 

“How jolly,” laughed the boy, and climbing on Dawd- 
ler’s back as he was told, off they started. 

“I think we will visit Mrs. Humble Bee first,” re- 
marked Dawdler. 


70 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


“Don’t you mean Bumble Bee?” asked Peter. 

“No, I do not. We will call on her later, but Mrs. 
Humble Bee is one of my favorite relatives and besides, 
she is easy to reach, she lives on the ground, — that is 
why she is called Humble, I suppose,” Dawdler ex- 
plained, and suddenly called out, although Peter had seen 
no one, “Hello there!” 

“Good morning, sirs, you are strangers in this sec- 
tion, aren’t you? I don’t remember having seen you 
before.” Peter looked in the direction from which 
the voice came and saw a bee coming towards them 
carrying a bright-colored scrap of something in her claws. 

“I am Mrs. Upholsterer Bee, and I wonder if you 
do not belong to that new Honey Bee family who have 
just moved into Bee Village?” 

“That is exactly where I do belong,” replied Peter’s 
guide, “and my name is Dawdler. I am taking my 
friend, Boy, to visit my relatives, and since you are a 
cousin of mine we will make our first call on you.” 

“Then I shall consider myself very fortunate,” said 
Mrs. Upholsterer. “We are right at my door now. 
Follow me, if you please.” 

The boy clung to Dawdler’s hand as they entered 
a dark passage that ran into the ground from a hole 
just beneath the roots of a tree, but before he had gone 
far they entered the loveliest room that he had ever 
seen. Walls and ceilings were lined with deep pink 
rose petals, and before he thought how rude his hostess 
might think him he went close to the wall to feel the 
soft silky covering. 

“I beg your pardon,” he stammered as he noticed 
that Mrs. Upholsterer and Dawdler were both looking 
at him. 

“Oh, that is all right,” remarked the former, and she 
smiled broadly. “I am glad that you like our taste. 
We had our rooms done in rose petals this year for a 
change. Last year it was lined with poppy petals. The 
roses don’t seem as durable as usual this season. When 
you met me I had just gathered some fresh petals to 


IN MEADOWLAND 


71 


repair that spot in the ceiling where last night’s rain 
soaked in. You see even our egg chambers are rose- 
lined.” And the cordial lady led her guests to view 
for themselves. 

“Rather nice to wake up for the first time and find 
yourself in a rose-lined crib,” remarked the boy, and 
he was sorry to leave the beautiful mansion and their 
delightful hostess when Dawdler declared that it was 
high time that they tore themselves away, if they were to 
make any other calls that day. 

Past the tree, down a path that was bordered with 
toadstools and by a lot of lovely green moss, following 
Mrs. Upholsterer’s directions they came to the home of 
Mrs. Mason Bee underneath a pile of oak leaves. Mrs. 
Mason Bee was delighted to see them when she heard 
who they were and insisted upon showing them her 
home, which was quite like Mrs. Upholsterer’s except 
that it was lined with mud. Peter could not truthfully 
say that he thought it was as pretty as the rose-lined 
home but he did tell Mrs. Mason Bee that it was finished 
wonderfully smoothly and was about the neatest look- 
ing place he had ever been in. 

“I daresay you like the flower palace of my cousin 
far better,” laughed jolly Mrs. Mason, “but we prefer 
the good old ground to all the petals in the world. Have 
you seen Cousin Wool Bee’s home? That is lined with 
all the fuzzy stuff she can gather from the plants.” 

“I visited her once,” said Dawdler, “and I was nearly 
tickled to death. By the way, isn’t that Cousin Car- 
penter’s home across the way? I am sure that I recog- 
nize her apartment high in yonder tree.” 

“Right you are,” answered his cousin. “But she is 
not at home now. At least, I saw her go out this morn- 
ing. She has just had a new floor laid of sawdust and 
wax, and I understand that she is going to bore another 
room out soon. Why don’t you call upon Cousin Ant 
Hill Bee? She lives right around the corner.” 

“Just what we will do,” said Dawdler. “Good-by, 
Cousin Mason Bee. We have had an awfully good 


72 PETER'S ADVENTURES 

time.” And off he and Peter went, to knock at Cousin 
Ant Hill Bee’s door which was in the side of a mound 
of earth. She was at home and glad to see them, but she 
did not invite them in. A n d the boy was much disap- 
pointed, for he would have liked to see what the inside 
of an Ant Hill Bee’s home was like. 


XXX 

UNDER THE TOADSTOOL PARASOL 

Dawdler had a great deal to say to his new-found 
cousins, and Peter grew rather tired of listening to him 
repeat the same family gossip at every door. Now 
Mrs. Ant. Hill Bee commenced to tell her guests about 
all the little Ant Flill Bees -and the boy didn’t want to 
interrupt her, but he did wish that he didn’t have to 
hear it, for it wasn’t a bit interesting and besides, Mrs. 
Mason Bee had told them practically the same thing. 
However, he didn’t know how he could very well help 
it, so he tried to forget the heat of the sun as well as 
he could. 

Then he spied a flat toadstool not far from the door- 
step and he thought how cool and pleasant it would be 
to sit for a moment in its shade. He noticed that neither 
Dawdler nor his cousin was paying the least bit of at- 
tention to him, so interested were they in their conversa- 
tion, so he murmured a polite “excuse me,” which they 
took no notice of, and strolled slowly over towards the 
toadstool, where he sat down with his back against 
its stem. 

It was delightfully cool there and Peter looked back 
at the two bees still talking in the hot sun and he was 
well pleased with himself for having escaped so easily. 
Then he glanced up and saw the top of his shelter. 

“What a beautiful parasol this would make,” he 
thought. “It is so soft and crinkly, just like silk, and 


IN MEADOWLAND 73 

it has such a lovely pinkish tinge. It is a great deal 
prettier than Mother’s best one. And I always thought 
that a toadstool was such an ugly thing and always 
squashed every one I found under my foot. It is a 
funny thing that the larger you are the less you see! It 
ought to be the other way round.” 

“Ow ! ow !” moaned a little voice somewhere near 
him. “You are hurting me dreadfully! I am afraid you 
will snap me in two.” 

The boy looked about him in amazement, but he 
couldn’t see a thing and the bees were still talking ear- 
nestly together so he knew that it couldn’t have come 
from their direction. 

He moved a bit so that he could look behind him and 
the cry of distress grew louder. 

“Oh, dear me, you are stepping on my head now. 
You will be the death of me, I am sure you will!” 

“What do you mean, creature, by stepping on my 
poor husband’s head?” chimed in a second voice. “He 
has never done anything to you, has he? And yet here 
you are crushing him for no reason at all!” 

Right in front of Peter was a tiny pile of dried le?ves^ 
and the second voice seemed to come right out of them, 
and as Peter stared closely at them he was surprised 
to see something that looked just exactly like a brown 
twig move quickly towards him. He rubbed his eyes to 
make sure that it was really coming. In no time at all 
it was almost upon him, and scolding him as hard as 
it could. 

“Get up, I tell you! You ought to be ashamed of 
yourself for being so cruel. I shall certainly wrap my 
antennae around you if you don’t move, and then see how 
you will like that!” 

Peter jumped quickly to his feet and faced the furious 
little thing. 

“Will you please tell me what I am doing? I haven’t 
any idea what or whom I am stepping on. I wouldn’t 
hurt your husband for the world, but I don’t see him.” 

“Don’t see him?” fairly shrieked the queer creature. 


74 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

“Then you must be blind, that’s all I can say. There he 
is lying at your feet with his poor body nearly broken 
in two by your big heel. I only hope that he isn t so 
badly hurt as he seems.” 

Sure enough, almost under his shoe was another twig- 


THE SECOND VOICE SEEMED TO COME 
RIGHT OUT OF THEM, 

like insect that seemed to be struggling to rise. If Peter 
had seen it at all he would have thought it was a twig; 
but now he bent down and helped the poor thing to 
stand upon its six legs, all of which had Been waving 
in the air as it tried to get up. The wife put one feeler 
about its shoulders and the queer little things both stood 
there waiting for Peter to speak, which he did as soon 
as he got his breath. 




IN MEADOWLAND 


75 


XXXI 

MR. AND MRS. WALKING STICK 

“I am very sorry indeed to have hurt you so. But I 
had no idea at all that any one was near me. You look 
so much like a stick that I never even noticed you. Can 
I do anything now to help you? Perhaps you will 
let me carry you to your home. I do hope that you 
will forgive me for stepping on you,” said Peter anx- 
iously. 

“Well, you certainly did crush me,” answered the hus- 
band in rather a weak tone. “But, of course, if you 
didn’t see me, you couldn’t help it. That’s what comes 
of looking like a stick. It has its disadvantages. But 
I shall feel all right directly. I must rest for a few 
moments, though. Wife, help me find a soft place, will 
you ?” 

“Of course I will, my dear. Here is a fine place now. 
You can hang on this stem and you will be perfectly 
safe from all danger and I will stand on the other side, 
near you.” 

If Peter had not seen them move off he could scarcely 
have told which were the creatures and which the stem 
they had attached themselves to. 

The wife was evidently quite a chatterbox, for as soon 
as she had taken her place she began to talk to Peter, 
and she began the conversation just as though he had 
that second stopped speaking. 

“And why, pray tell, shouldn’t we look like sticks 
when we are sticks?” she demanded. “It is high time 
that we were properly introduced. Mr. and Mrs. Walk- 
ing Stick, if you please. And who may you be, sir?” 

“I am a boy,” answered Peter promptly, “and I am 
sure I am delighted to meet you both. You are perfect 
strangers to me, but I hope we shall become good 
friends.” 

“Of course we will if you don’t step on us again, or 


76 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

on any of our children. They don’t look exactly as 
we do. They are little and green, just the same color as 
the leaves they eat, and there are any number of them 
out at play now. You will be very careful and watch 
out for them, won’t you?” 



HE BKHT FROM THE STEM AND SUR- 
VEVEp HIS FIGURE IM A LEAF 


“Indeed I will,” Peter assured the anxious mother. “I 
will watch every step I take. You and your husband 
look much alike, but you are a little stouter than he is, 
aren’t you?” 

“I am afraid she is,” interrupted Mr. Walking Stick. 
“It is because she eats so much. I have told her that 
she would lose all her slender beauty if she insisted upon 
munching leaves all day. Look at me now. I am con- 



IN MEADOWLAND 


77 

sidered very handsome by all my friends. Did you ever 
see anything thinner?” 

“I can truthfully say that you are the very thinnest 
thing I ever saw,” declared the boy. “And if thinness 
is a mark of beauty in Walking Stick circles, then you 
are exceptionally handsome.” 

“There, wife, did you hear that? Uncle Praying 
Mantis is such a conceited old chap, we must be sure to 
tell him what the boy has said. Aren’t you glad you 
have such a wonderful fellow for a husband?” and the 
vain creature kicked out his legs in pride as he bent 
from the stem and surveyed his figure in a leaf which 
was still glistening from the early morning dew. 

“You may be handsome, but you are a selfish old 
thing,” snapped his wife. “Here you are, taking more 
than your share of the stem and just now you nearly 
knocked me off to look at your foolish old self in the 
mirror. I dare say that there are those who think I am 
beautiful even if I am a trifle stouter than you are.” 

It appeared as if there was going to be a family row 
in a minute, but Peter hastily interrupted the angry 
couple. 

“But you both have lovely antennae,” said he, “and 
such pretty legs.” 

“Do you think so?” asked Mrs. Walking Stick with a 
satisfied smile. “Mine, you see, are all brown, but my 
husband’s are green.” 

“I noticed that, and his look just like pine needles, 
don’t they? Can you run quickly?” 

“I should say we could, but we never run when we 
are trying to get away from an enemy. We find a twig 
or a leaf and stand perfectly still beside it and our 
enemy thinks we are only a part of it and rushes right 
by us and when he has passed we step down and go 
about our business.” 


78 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


XXXII 

UNCLE PRAYING MANTIS ARRIVES 

“Ha, ha, ha!” chuckled a jolly voice at Peter’s right. 
“We fool them, all right and every time. I just had a 
fine dinner of a fat bug that ran right into my arms. It 
isn’t always our enemy that we play a trick on. Some- 
times it is a silly unsuspecting acquaintance that doesn’t 
dream we are anywhere near. Ha, ha!” 

The last “ha ha” sounded rather fierce, and Peter 
was somewhat startled, for he couldn’t see who was 
talking and he had no wish to provide a meal for any 
one. But Mrs. Walking Stick gave a little cry of wel- 
come. 

“Well, well, if it isn’t Uncle Praying Mantis,” she 
said. “When did you get here? We didn’t know that 
you had left the South yet. You must have traveled 
fast. How are Aunt and the children? Uncle, this 
is Boy, a friend of ours, though to be sure he did step 
on my poor dear husband’s head when we first met, and 
we had an awful time to get him off.” 

“It’s too bad I wasn’t around,” chuckled the voice. 
“I’d have hugged him well, I tell you, and he would 
have soon gotten off Nephew’s head. Although where 
he’d have gone, I’ll not tell you. He looks as if he was 
fat and tasty.” 

“Tee hee!” giggled Mrs. Walking Stick. “You al- 
ways were such a joker, Uncle.” But her husband, who 
was much kinder hearted, said hastily: 

“For shame, both of you! The boy didn’t see me, 
and he didn’t mean to hurt me and he said he was 
sorry, so it is rude of you to speak of the subject, 
Wife, and as for you, Uncle, when you know Boy, you 
are sure to like him. Come down here so we can 
look at you. We want to hear all about your trip, and I 
want our new friend here to see what a fine fellow you 


IN MEADOWLAND 


79 

This bit of flattery evidently pleased Uncle Praying 
Mantis, for with another chuckle something flew past 
Peter and landed beside the stem to which Mr. and Mrs. 
Walking Stick were clinging, and dropping down they 
walked awkwardly forward and gravely shook — not 
hands — but feelers with him. 

The newcomer was quite different from his niece and 
nephew, for he had wings that were of a beautiful 
green and that contrasted strikingly with his legs and 
body of brown. And as he rested there he held up his 
front legs in an attitude of devotion. 

Peter thought he was praying and hesitated to inter- 
rupt him, although there were several questions he 
wanted to ask. But suddenly a fly buzzed along and 
quick as a flash of lightning Uncle Praying Mantis threw 
out his long devotional legs and caught the unfortunate 
fly in them and there he held him in a trap and com- 
menced to eat him alive, for all the world as a boy would 
eat an apple. 

“Will you have a bite?” he coolly asked Peter. “There 
is no use in my asking the Walking Sticks, for they eat 
nothing but leaves, poor things.” 

Peter was disgusted at the old fellow and sorry for 
the fly; but he didn’t want to hurt his friends’ feel- 
ings, so he managed to refuse politely enough and 
said : 

“Then you weren’t praying after all, were you?” 

“For nothing except for food,” laughed the Mantis. 
“That is our little trick for catching it without much 
work, you know. We look so good that no one suspects 
us and the insects fly right into our outstretched arms. 
Why, only last week a cousin of mine — an ugly old chap 
with whom I always quarreled — didn’t look out where 
he was going and ran into me and I had a full meal that 
day, I can tell you.” 

“Why, you are a regular cannibal,” said the horrified 
boy. 

“What’s that?” questioned the Mantis. 

“It’s a creature that eats human flesh,” said Peter. 


8o 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


“Then I am not one,” declared the Mantis decidedly. 
“I never eat humans, only insects.” 

“Well, it is the same thing,” answered Peter. 

“Not at all, you don’t know what you are talking 
about,” snapped the fellow. “But I haven’t time to 
argue with you, I want to talk with my kinsfolk. I don’t 
like you much, anyhow.” 

“And I am very sure I don’t like you,” said the boy 
crossly. But neither the Walking Sticks nor their Uncle 
paid any further attention to him. They had linked 
feelers and were walking stiffly off down the road. 

XXXIII 

PETER MEETS AN OLD FRIEND’S BROTHER 

“Disagreeable old codger, even if he is a relative of 
mine! I will say, stranger, that I’d hate to have much 
to do with him myself and I don’t blame you a bit for 
not liking him. I never could understand why some 
insects act so hateful. Why can’t they all be pleasant 
and friendly, that’s what I’d like to have you tell me! 

“Chirp, chirp, — I’m just as happy as I can be. I 
like everybody and everybody likes me,” — chirped a 
jolly voice that seemed to come from behind a gray 
stone near the toadstool and, as Peter watched, a pair 
of long feelers appeared and in a twinkling of an eye an 
inquisitive little head peeped around the corner and two 
bright eyes met his. 

The newcomer looked so agreeable that the boy was 
delighted to see him, and greeted him like an old friend. 

“Hello there,” said he. “I certainly am glad to see 
you. So you overheard our conversation, did you? I 
am a little ashamed of myself for having lost my temper 
with that old fellow, especially since he was the uncle of 
some friends of mine, but he was the most bloodthirsty 
creature I have met yet. Did you hear him say that he 
had actually eaten his own cousin? That was what 


IN MEADOWLAND 


81 

made me so angry with him. It was bad enough that he 
should trap that fly in such a mean way, but he didn’t 
seem to be even decent enough to let his relatives alone.” 

“I should say I did overhear him, and that is why I 
didn’t come out until he had gone. I hope that I am 
no coward, but I must say I don’t believe in running 
into danger and he would have gobbled me up in a sec- 
ond if I had happened to fall within his grasp. It wouldn’t 
have mattered to him at all that I was a kinsman of his, 
as in fact I am, although sorry enough to own it. But al- 
though we may choose our friends, we can’t do much 
about our relatives, can we? We have to put up with 
them, — associate with those whom we like and let all 
the others alone.” 

“I guess you are right,” said the boy laughing at the 
antics of the fellow, who was nodding his head in time 
to a cheery tune that he was humming half aloud. “But 
do let’s stop talking about such a horrid subject as old 
Uncle Praying Mantis and let us hope we shall never 
meet him again. Do come all the way out from behind 
that rock. I’d like to see the whole of you, for you re- 
mind me very strongly of some one I once knew. I can’t 
quite remember who, but I think I will in just a moment.” 

With a gay little skip the fellow was over the rock in 
a jiffy, and after one good look at him Peter gave a 
whoop. 

“Hurrah,” cried he. “I know who you are now. You 
are Mr. Cricket, and one of your brothers was a very 
great friend of mine at home. I am a boy, you know, 
and this other Mr. Cricket lived on our hearth and 
every night he used to come out and sit on the fender 
and sing me to sleep. All his songs were so nice and 
‘comfy’ sounding, and I never was afraid to stay in 
the dark as long as he was around. Some nights my 
father and mother would go over and spend the evening 
at a neighbor’s, and I was all alone in our great big 
house, but I did not even mind that, for as soon as they 
were gone, out hopped Mr. Cricket and began his song. 
He had the finest wife too, and a few babies, and often 


82 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

after the children were in bed, I suppose, Mrs. Cricket 
would join him and they would give a concert, all by 
themselves. We called them the Crickets on the Hearth, 
and Mother always said they brought good luck to the 
family they chose to live with.” 

“Well now, isn’t that interesting? My wife will love 
to hear about that, and although she is a little shy 
when she first meets any one she will soon get over it and 
if she takes a fancy to you she will be your friend for 
life. Chee, Chee, come here. I want you to meet an 
old friend of the family’s,” he called clearly, and then 
turned to Peter and said, — 

“Her real name is Cheero, because she is always so 
happy, I suppose, but it is too long, so I call her Chee 
for short.” And again he cried: 

“Hurry up, wife, where are you?” 


XXXIV 

THE CHEERY CRICKETS 

“Here I am, Chirper,” answered a gay voice, “and I 
am coming right along,” and with the words a second, 
cricket skipped around the corner of the rock. 

“I am sorry to have kept you waiting, dear, but one 
of the babies got his feeler caught in a crevice of the 
rock and just as you called I was trying to get it out 
without hurting him, and of course I had to wait until 
1 dId '” 

“Dear me,” exclaimed Mr. Cricket in an anxious tone, 
“he might have pulled it off and that would have been 
a terrible thing to happen. Are you sure it is all right 
now? Why didn’t you call me?” 

“I was just about to, Chirper, when I gave a sudden 
jerk that loosened the feeler and it came uncaught with- 
out any further trouble. You needn’t worry one bit. 
But you haven’t introduced me to your friend, my dear, 


IN MEADOWLAND 


83 

ana I really can’t stay away long now. It is almost 
time for me to sing the babies to sleep. It is nearly their 
afternoon nap-time, you know.” 

“Oh, I had forgotten all about that! So it is, Chee. 
Well, we won’t keep you long, but I want you to know 
Boy, here. He made a home for Brother Cricket — 
although I am not sure just which one of the boys you 
mean,” he said addressing Peter, “there is such an im- 
mense family of us, you know. But it doesn’t make any 
difference, it was one of us and that is enough. Tell 
Mrs. Cricket about the concerts Brother and his wife 
used to give and how he used to sing you to sleep.” 

Peter’s recital of the doings of his old friends, the 
Crickets on the Hearth, delighted Chirper’s wife and she 
signified her approval of the boy himself by patting him 
on the back with her feelers, and then she solemnly held 
out one of her front legs for him to shake. 

Mr. Cricket himself evidently was a firm believer in 
resting whenever he got the opportunity and he sud- 
denly remarked: 

“Come on, you two, let’s sit down for a few moments 
under the toadstool. We can talk there and we shall 
be out of the sun. Not but what I like the sun, but I 
must say I am fond of the shade, too.” 

“That suits me exactly,” said Peter. “I was sitting 
under there when Mrs. Walking Stick came along and 
made me get off her husband’s head. Although, good- 
ness knows, I wouldn’t have been on it if I had seen him, 
but he looked so much like a plain twig that I didn’t. 
Now you and Mrs. Cricket are so black that no one 
could step on you and not know it, thank goodness!” 

“Yes, we are pretty dark,” said Mr. Cricket, “and 
we are a little vain of the fact that we are so shiny, 
too. See how my wife’s dress shines and isn’t it fine 
and smooth? My coat, you see, is much less smooth, 
but still it is a fine coat for all of that, at least it ought 
to be for I take care enough of it.” 

“It is a very handsome one, I think,” said the boy, 
“but it reminds me a lot of a box-cover, your wings 


84 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

are so flat and fit down so closely and evenly at the 
sides.” 

“They do indeed, for they are a fine set of wings, I 
can assure you, and they are very musical wings too.” 

“Musical?” asked Peter in much surprise. “What do 
you mean?” 

“Why, they are what I sing with, only I really don’t 
sing at all,” said Mr. Cricket, contradicting himself in 
a manner that puzzled Peter. “I really play on them, 
but you called the music ‘singing’ so that is what I 
called it just now, so that you would understand what I 
meant. Do you see the heavy ribs on my wing covers?” 

Chirper bent over for Peter to examine his back. 
The boy noticed that the covers of his wings were 
divided into little spaces that looked like so many drum- 
heads, and that across the top of his wings ran a ridge 
that was shaped like a file and looked almost as sharp 
as one. 

“Why, I never thought you had so many different 
things on your wings, Mr. Cricket,” cried Peter after 
he had looked closely at his friend’s back, “it is really 
wonderful, but even now I don’t quite understand how 
you can make music with them.” 

“Then listen and you shall hear,” declared the gentle- 
man, who was certainly much gratified at the attention 
he was attracting. “Only you must watch me very 
closely, or you can’t see how I do it.” 

XXXV 

CHIRPER PROVES HIMSELF CLEVER 

Greatly interested, Peter did watch Mr. Cricket’s 
movements very closely and he saw him raise the covers 
of his wings into the air and then begin to rub them 
together, first rather slowly and then faster and faster. 
And the membranes of the covers began to quiver so 
violently that the boy was afraid that Chirper was in- 


IN MEADOWLAND 


85 

juring them; but the cricket evidently knew what he was 
about for suddenly sounded the cheery chirp that Peter 
was listening for, and he gave them quite a solo before 
he stopped. Mrs. Cricket was quite as pleased with the 
performance as though she had never heard it before, 
and when he had finished she remarked to Peter in a 
satisfied way, — 

“There is nobody in our acquaintance who can play 
quite like my husband, I will say that for him. His 
touch is beautiful, don’t you think so?” 

“I should say it was,” answered the boy, “although I 
don’t know anything at all about it. But to say the least 
he is very clever at it. But must you leave us so soon? 
Why, we are only just getting acquainted.” 

“It is too bad, but I really must get home and take 
care of the children,” said Mrs. Cricket in a worried 
way and she made ready to hop off. “One never knows 
these days what may happen to them, especially when 
there is a greedy Praying Mantis in the near neighbor- 
hood. Chirper wouldn’t tell me for fear of worrying 
me, but I happened to overhear a few of the terrible 
creature’s remarks, myself. Don’t let my husband know 
I did, though. He would only feel badly about it, but 
it makes me doubly watchful of the babies. Come and 
see us, Boy, whenever you want to. Our home is just 
beneath the corner of that rock. Good-by, friend, and 
good luck to you,” and with a last wave of her feelers 
the pleasant little lady disappeared behind the gray 
stone. 

Chirper, however, seemed in no hurry to depart, and 
re-settled himself beneath the toadstool, and Peter who 
had politely risen to say good-by to Mrs. Cricket now 
sat down again. 

But they had no sooner gotten into a comfortable 
position than a strange whirring sound came to Peter’s 
ears. He was on the point of asking Mr. Cricket what 
he thought it was, when he noticed that his companion 
was acting decidedly queerly. He was actually foaming 
at the mouth with a dark brown substance. 


86 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


Peter began to be much alarmed and was thinking 
seriously of calling to Mrs. Cricket, when the cricket 
spoke to him : 

“Don’t be frightened,” he said, “I am not ill, only get- 
ting ready to protect myself. Didn’t you just hear that 
whir ?” 

“Yes,” said the boy, “what was it? I was going to 
ask you. And will you please tell me what is that stuff 
that you are making come out of your mouth? It looks 
exactly like molasses. Is it?” 

“I am sure I don’t know what molasses is, but I am 
making a juice that will keep my enemies away from me. 
That is a bird that we just heard. Listen ! There he 
comes again. But I will smear him with this if he tries 
to touch me, and he hates the smell of it and will soon 
let me alone.” 

“Of all things!” cried Peter in amazement. “That 
seems a simple enough way of protecting oneself, yet I 
must say I shouldn’t like to get any of it on me. It 
really doesn’t look very inviting, you know, and it cer- 
tainly doesn’t smell very nice.” 

“Then it is exactly as I intended that it should be,” 
declared Chirper. “The bird must have discovered that 
I was all ready for him, for you see he has disappeared. 
But who on earth can that fellow be, standing over 
yonder? For some time now he seems to have been 
trying to attract your attention by waving. It must 
be you he is signaling, for I am quite sure that I never 
saw him before. Do you know what he wants?” 

XXXVI 

DR. DAWDLER TO THE RESCUE 

The boy looked in the direction that Mr. Cricket was 
pointing and saw an insect coming towards them that he 
recognized instantly as Dawdler. 

He gave a guilty start, for he had been so interested 


IN MEADOWLAND 


87 

in meeting and getting acquainted with first Mr. and 
Mrs. Walking Stick and then their old cannibal of an 
uncle, Praying Mantis, and last the Cricket couple, that 
he had actually forgotten all about the Bees. 

“Of course I know him, and well too, Mr. Cricket,” 
the boy said as he waved his hand in greeting. “He is 
Dawdler the Dude. You must meet him. I am sur- 
prised that you don’t know him yourself. He belongs 
to the Honey Bee family, and he is a splendid chap. In 
fact he is one of my best friends in Insect Land.” 

Dawdler had been rapidly approaching and now he 
joined the two under the toadstool parasol. 

“Well, old chap,” Peter greeted him, “you have been 
making a call of it, haven’t you? Did you find out all 
the scandal in the family and were you able to get a bet- 
ter view of your cousin’s home? I was so anxious to 
see how Mrs. Ant Hill Bee’s rooms differed from those 
of your other cousins, but Mrs. Ant Hill Bee stood 
directly in the way and I couldn’t see in without being 
positively rude about it.” 

Dawdler did not answer at once. Evidently the heat 
had been too much for him, and Peter was glad when 
he saw how very warm his friend was that he himself 
had had the good sense to seek shelter from the rays of 
the sun. But at last the latest comer recovered himself 
to some extent. 

Taking off his hat the Bee fanned his heated face with 
one of his wings. 

“What a morning I’ve had,” he remarked in a tired 
voice. “What chatterboxes the ladies are ! I have 
had to listen all this time to everything that has 
ever happened in Cousin Ant Hill Bee’s family from the 
very beginning, I do believe. And here I find you com- 
fortably seated in the shade, while I have been standing 
in the broiling sun. Silly woman wouldn’t invite me in 
because she said she had been house-cleaning and the 
place was all upset. As if I would have cared about 
that!” 

“Oh pooh, Dawdler. You liked to talk just as much 


88 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


as she did, and you are forever saying how much you 
love to be in the sun. You could have been here with 
me if you had really wanted to. But you couldn’t tear 
yourself away from the ladies. But now that you are 
here let me introduce you to Mr. Cricket. He is a 
brother of a very old friend of mine.” 

“Delighted to meet you, I am sure,” said Dawdler 
in his best manner. “Do you live in these parts?” 

“Yes, I was born in the same house where my wife 
and I are now living, in the corner of the rock over 
there. I would invite you both to come in, only I know 
my wife is putting the little ones to sleep and we should 
disturb them, for the bed is right by the door, so that 
they can get all the air and light that there is. I tell 
you, we are firm believers in fresh air and light. There 
is nothing like them to keep one in good health.” 

“You are perfectly right,” replied Dawdler. “I am 
a doctor, so I ought to know.” 

He had no sooner uttered the words than a shrill 
cry sounded from behind the rock. 

“Chirper, Chirper, come quickly! Fiddler has gotten 
his wing out of place and I can’t get it back. Go for the 
doctor right away.” 

“Perhaps I can be of some assistance,” said Dawdler 
jumping to his feet, and both he and Peter followed the 
frantic Mr. Cricket, who had accepted Dawdler’s offer 
and was now hopping as fast as he could go towards the 
rock. 


XXXVII 

FIDDLER LEARNS A LESSON 

They found the poor little cricket screaming with 
pain, and Dawdler bent over him and without any loss 
of time gave his wing a quick jerk that pulled it back into 
place. Then he gently bound it to the side with a soft 
cord of grass that Peter had gotten under his directions. 

Mother Cricket then told them how it happened. 


IN MEADOWLAND 


89 

“I was telling the children how their father had shown 
the Boy how he made music with his wings, when Fiddler 
said he could do it too, he believed, and before I could 
stop him he raised his wings so violently into the air 
and commenced to rub them together so fast that he got 
them caught and try as I would I could not get them 
apart. It is a mighty good thing that there was a doctor 
so near at hand or goodness knows what poor Fiddler 
would have done in his pain and fright.” 

“I hope that it will teach him a lesson,” said her hus- 
band severely, glaring at Fiddler. “He had no business 
to try things that he knows nothing about. I will teach 
him how to play when it is time for him to learn. His 
wings are not grown yet. That is why he got into 
trouble.” 

“Don’t scold the child, Chirper,” said Mrs. Cricket. 
“He has been punished enough for one day. But I am 
certainly grateful to you, doctor. How much do we owe 
you r 

“Oh, nothing at all,” answered Dawdler, who seemed 
much embarrassed at the question. “I am glad to have 
done anything for friends of the Boy’s, here. You see, 
he is a great favorite of mine. We are pals, aren’t we, 
old sport?” 

“That’s what we are,” said Peter with a laugh. “Only 
a pal would carry another upon his back, as you have 
me. I can’t fly, you know,” he explained to the Crickets, 
half apologetically. 

“No, that’s true, you can’t,” agreed Dawdler, “but 
you can do so many other things that one doesn’t mind 
that. Besides, being a drone, I can’t fly very well my- 
self, or very far at a time. And that reminds me that 
we have not visited the flower garden yet. How about 
going there now?” he asked, turning to Peter. 

“I should like to, very much indeed,” answered the 
boy, and he asked Mrs. Cricket: 

“Are you sure that there is nothing more that we can 
do for you?” 

“Oh, no, thank you,” chimed in both the Crickets at 


90 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


once. “Fiddler will do very nicely now. And it is a 
lovely day for a visit to a garden. If we didn’t have to 
think about feeding so many little mouths, we might be 
tempted to go with you. But it is all we can think about 
nowadays to find enough food for the kiddies.” 

“By the way, what do you Crickets eat?” asked Peter. 
“All my friends like such different foods, I can’t help 
wondering what your favorite dishes are. Not any 
members of your own family, I am sure!” 

“Well, I should say not,” said Mr. Cricket half in- 
dignantly, and then he noticed that Peter was smiling, 
and he smiled too. “But I must say I don’t wonder you 
ask that, after meeting Uncle Praying Mantis, But we 
Crickets are a peaceful vegetarian branch of the family. 
We like fruit and a juicy vegetable now and then.” 

“Then you will have a fine meal on what I have in 
my pocket,” said the boy. “I wonder that I didn’t think 
of it before this. A bite of it will do a great deal to 
help Fiddler to get well.” And he drew from his 
pocket a luscious plum that he had forgotten all about 
until that very moment. 

Mr. and Mrs. Cricket were delighted with it, and 
right away his father bit off a piece and gave it to Fiddler, 
who seized it hungrily. 

“We had better be off,” said Dawdler then, and amid 
a chorus of “good-bys” and “come agains” he and Peter 
started off to find the garden that was near Bee Villa. 
And they hadn’t gone so far from home after all, it 
seemed, for in no time at all the buzzing of the workers, 
as they gathered the honey, and the sweet odor of the 
blossoms told them that they were at their journey’s end. 

XXXVIII 

IN THE FLOWER GARDEN 

“Here we are right at the edge of the Garden of De- 
light,” said Dawdler in an excited way. “Let’s not bother 


IN MEADOWLAND 


9i 

to enter by the gate, and I am sure there is a gate, for 
this morning I noticed that there was a high fence. I 
know a better way of getting to the flowers than that. 
You climb upon my back and hold on tight and we’ll 
go ‘over the top’ together and in no time at all.” 

So Peter mounted his Bee steed and settled himself 
firmly in place upon his back and Dawdler soared into 
the air and skimming lightly over the high fence landed 
right in the heart of a rose in the twinkling of an eye. 

The rose was swaying upon its stem, rocked by a 
gentle wind; and as the boy tumbled off Dawdler’s hick 
and seated himself upon one of the pink petals he thought 
that never had he been anywhere half so delightful be- 
fore. The Bee, too, was greatly pleased to find that 
he had made such a choice selection and the two friends 
decided to stay where they were for a while. Dawdler, 
the lazy fellow, tipped his tiny hat down over his eyes 
and immediately proceeded to curl himself up and go 
to sleep, but although the boy did feel a bit drowsy, 
there was altogether too much to be seen for him to close 
his eyes for a moment, and he surveyed the scene with 
the greatest interest. 

Just next to the rose upon which Peter and Dawdler 
were sitting was a slender lily that held its golden head 
with a right royal air, and next to that grew a petunia 
with pretty white and red spots upon its petals, and 
near by a striped yellow tulip and a scarlet poppy. Over 
in a corner, not far from the rose-bush a clump of violets 
were nearly hidden under a great lilac bush, and tall 
sweet peas in every color of the rainbow climbed up the 
fence and tried their level best to look over the top, and 
just beside them an enormous sunflower turned up its 
face to receive the kisses of the sun it loved. 

But all the leaves of all the plants were green and the 
boy had never imagined that there could be so many 
different shades; and green were most of the stems too, 
but the centers of all the blossoms that Peter could see 
were yellow. 

“Are you comfortable?” whispered a gentle voice so 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


92 

faintly that the boy had to bend down his head to hear. 
“If you will sit a little bit more towards the center I 
can shade you with one of my outer petals. And I will 
stop rocking if you would like me to.” 

It was the voice of the Rose that was speaking and 
Peter hastened to answer it. 

“I am very comfortable indeed, dear Rose,” he said, 
“and thank you for thinking of us. My friend is sound 
asleep, so I am sure that he is perfectly satisfied with 
things as they are. I hope that we are not intruding. 
We came without an invitation.” 

“You are welcome as a friend of the Bees,” murmured 
the rose. “The bees and butterflies and birds are part- 
ners of the flowers, you know.” 

“Partners?” said Peter slowly. “I can’t imagine what 
you mean. I always thought that partners were people 
interested in the same sort of business.” 

“That is as good a description as any,” said the Rose 
softly, “so we are interested in the same business, — in 
the business of living. We flowers could not get along 
without the bees and birds and butterflies, and they could 
not live very long without us. We give them food and 
they carry our pollen from plant to plant and so help us 
to make seeds and to grow strong and beautiful.” 

“I should say that you were partners,” said the boy. 
“But tell me what is pollen and how does a bee carry it 
from flower to flower?” 


XXXIX 

FRIENDLY RIVALS 

“Upon his coat of course,” said a voice that was as 
clear as a bell but for all of that rather disagreeable, 
and Peter was surprised to find that it was the queenly 
Lily who was now talking. 

“You would do far better if you talked to me. I am 
Queen of this garden, but for some reason or other 


IN MEADOWLAND 


that Rose always takes it upon herself to interview all 
the visitors, when it should be my regal right to do so.” 

“I should be very glad to talk to you,” replied the 
boy, “but it isn’t in the least the Rose’s fault that we are 
here. We arrived uninvited and she has made us 
welcome guests. I am sure I think she is very lovely.” 

“Of course you do,” said the Lily, and this time there 
was no doubt about the cross tone she used, “she gains 
the affections of all the guests of the garden in just the 
same way when they ought to like me best. My family 
is a great deal more aristocratic than is hers and as a 
matter of fact I am of royal blood, while many of the 
roses on her family bush are still running wild. Who 
brought you here anyway?” 

“I don’t know that I need tell you if you are going 
to be so disagreeable about it,” said the boy who felt 
himself growing angry because of the Lily’s slurs at the 
Rose who had so hospitably received him, “but if you 
really want to know, I came with Dawdler the Bee.” 

“Oh, then that accounts for it,” said the Lily. “I 
know his kind well, — a shiftless, lazy fellow.” 

“He is nothing of the sort,” replied Peter indignantly, 
but at this point Dawdler interrupted him. 

“Don’t mind her, she’s jealous,” he drawled. “We 
bees love the Rose the best of all and the other flowers 
don’t mind a bit. They know how sweet and fragrant 
she is, but the Lily is the proudest of the blossoms, and 
she has a right to be, for her family is indeed the most 
aristocratic, but it hurts her pride to have us pass her 
by in her beauty and choose the humbler but the lovelier 
Rose.” 

“Thank you, dear Dawdler, you Bees are always so 
good to me,” murmured the Rose who had been silent 
all this time. “Lily is a little rude and overbearing, but 
after all she has a warm heart. Why, only yesterday she 
nursed a wounded humming bird back to health within 
her cool breast.” 

“One couldn’t do anything less when one is asked for 
shelter,” replied the Lily, and her voice was decidedly 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


94 

less cross, and the boy was sure that she hung her head a 
little, as if for shame at the way she had treated the 
Rose. “But as far as that goes I have seen you rock 
more than one tired butterfly to sleep and give freely of 
your dew to many a thirsty bee. What I did was noth- 
ing at all, so let’s not talk about it any longer. But the 
stranger asked what pollen was. You tell him, Rose. 
You can explain it better than can I.” Peter now ad- 
mired the Lily, for he saw that she was trying hard to 
show the Rose that she was sorry for her rude words. 

“Pollen is flower dust,” began the Rose but that was 
as far as she got, for just as that moment something 
extremely soft brushed Peter’s face and what looked to 
him like two gorgeously colored banners appeared at his 
side. They came so suddenly and took up so much room 
that the boy was forced to move a little or they would 
have brushed him off from the edge of the Rose, where 
he had taken his seat so that he could get a good view 
of the garden. And when he looked more closely at the 
strange thing that had just arrived he saw to his amaze- 
ment that it was a large Butterfly with a brilliant coat 
of gold and red and orange. 

The newcomer balanced himself cleverly on the ex- 
treme edge of a petal and fluttered his wings incessantly. 
It was plain to be seen that he was very proud of them 
and wanted every one to notice how lovely they were. 

XL 

GAY SIR BUTTERFLY 

“Good afternoon to you all,” said the Butterfly pleas- 
antly. “My, what a crowd I find! Have I stumbled 
into a party or what? It is certainly a perfect day for 
one.” 

“Not a party. Butterfly,” answered the Rose, “these 
are just two friends of mine who happened in. But 
can’t I give you a drink of dew or a bit of honey, per- 


IN MEADOWLAND 


95 

haps? You are welcome to either or both, you know.” 

“Thanks so much, but I only stopped for a moment. 
I am going to make a call on my old sweetheart, Lily, 
and I dare say that she has a treat in store for me. And 
then I am due at Lily’s cousin’s, across the road. So 
long, folks. Glad to have seen you.” And off he flew 
to Rose’s rival. 

The Lily, who had begun to grow sulky again when 
she saw him stopping at the Rose, now brightened up 
and made ready to receive Sir Butterfly, and Peter saw 
him greet her with a butterfly kiss and soon dip his long 
slim drinking tube far down into the cup of the flower. 

“Well, if you are the favorite of the bees, Lily is cer- 
tainly beloved by the Butterflies,” chuckled the jolly 
Tulip. “All the rest of us have to take second place, it 
seems to me, unless it is the modest Violet, over there. 
Every one loves her.” 

“Nonsense,” laughed the Rose. “The bees and the 
birds and the flowers love us all for our different selves. 
But you know as well as I do that when Butterfly or Bee 
is out visiting Lilies he does not stop long at any other 
flower.” 

“That is so,” said Dawdler suddenly. “I never 
thought much about it before, but now that you speak 
of it, it is certainly true. I wonder why it is. Can you 
tell us, Rose?” 

“I can,” said the Petunia, who had not spoken before. 
“Once upon a time my mother told me the reason. It 
is because the flower dust from flowers of different kinds 
will not help the seeds to grow. For instance, the But- 
tercup wants only the flower dust of a Buttercup 
brought to her, the Rose can do nothing with the pollen 
of a Lily, neither has Sunflower over there any use for 
Violet’s pollen. Our flying friends know this somehow 
and so although they fly from flower to flower they only 
go among flowers of the same kind on the same day. 
Then they gather pollen at one blossom and give it to 
another blossom of the same sort and in this way give 
life to the seeds of those flowers.” 


96 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

Nobody thought that Butterfly had been listening, 
but evidently he had, for now he spoke from the depths 
of the Lily where he had settled himself with folded 
wings : — 

“My, but you are a wise one, Petunia. Something 



THEM THEY GATHER POLLEN AT ONE 
£LQ550A\ AND GIVE IT TO ANOTHER BL055QK f 


told me not to accept Rose’s offer. I had been giving my 
attention to the Lily family all day. And I must say that 
if there is a place I love to rest it is on the breast of this 
old sweetheart of mine. But I like the Rose and Violet 
and Tulip and all of you, and there isn’t one among 
you who can say that I have neglected you this season. 
Is there now? And I always visit you in turns, don’t I 
now?” 


IN MEADOWLAND 97 

“Yes, yes, you do,” chorused all the flowers, nodding 
their heads. 

“Well then, what Petunia told you is the truth. I 
love you all and I try to help you all in the best way I 
can. Goodness gracious, I had no idea that it was so 
late. Here it is long after noon by the clock. I really 
must be going, Lily,” and the gay chan began to wave 
his wings to be sure that the admiring audience got a 
good look at them before he left. 

“Do tell me what clock you are telling the time by,” 
asked Peter, whose curiosity was thoroughly aroused 
by Butterfly’s last remark. 

“Well, for goodness’ sake!” exclaimed Butterfly, and 
he actually stopped fluttering his wings for a second, so 
surprised was he. “Do you mean to say you don’t really 
know?” 

XLI 


FLOWER CLOCKS 

“No,” said Peter, “I must say I don’t.” 

“Well, there are several of them right in front of 
you, and as plain as the nose on your face,” declared 
Butterfly. “Morning Glory, for instance is tightly shut 
up, and she never stays open after noon. Tulip has 
opened her petals until they are almost flat and she 
always does that when it is twelve o’clock. The Passion 
flowers are lazy folk, and see, they are just this moment 
waking up and it is a well known fact to all their friends 
that they are never home to callers until twelve in the 
day. Then look at the Sweet Pea family. They are 
announcing that it is noon by the way they have opened 
their banners. And these are only a few. One can be 
always sure what time it is by the flowers. They are as 
certain of the hours and mark them as regularly as do 
you, my fine fellow.” 

“That is the most extraordinary thing that ever I 
heard,” declared Peter. “I should like very much to 


98 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

know more about it. Now that I come to think of it, 
Four-O’Clock is a time-piece, too, isn’t it?” 

“It is,” said Butterfly, “and so are Poppy and Water- 
lily, and Dandelion and Daisy, and any number . of 
others. But talking of time reminds me that ‘it flies’ 
as my grandfather used to say, and I must finish my 
round of calls or night will find me with too much flower- 
dust on my wings and body, and I can’t be weighted 
down with that, for I am going to the Butterfly Ball this 
afternoon, in Grassy Meadow.” 

“How I wish I could be there!” cried Peter before he 
thought. “I didn’t know that Butterflies could dance, 
but I’d love to see them. What a beautiful sight it 
would be !” 

“It is indeed,” said Butterfly with much satisfaction. 
“And I am going to show some new flies, myself, to-day. 
I’ll tell you what. You may come with me as my guest, 
if you want to. But wait a minute. Who are you any- 
how? You look a great deal like a Human, but if you 
are, you are certainly the smallest one I have ever seen.” 

“That is just what I am,” said Peter with a smile. 
“I am a boy, but I am little on purpose, so that I can 
play with you all, for I love you so.” 

“In that case,” declared Butterfly, “there is nothing 
more to be said. Although I never was over-fond of 
boys because all that I have known have tried to pull off 
our wings or to stick us on pins or to do something 
equally as uncomfortable for us.” 

“Take my word for it,” spoke up Dawdler. “He isn’t 
that sort of a boy at all. He is the finest kind of a chap, 
and I ought to know, for he is my best friend. He is a 
hero too, and far from hjurting any bee, while he has 
been living with us in Beeville, he saved all our lives one 
day by killing our enemy, Mr. Snail.” 

“Bravo!” cried all the flowers. 

“That settles it,” said Butterfly decidedly. “You shall 
come along with me. Can you fly or do you have to 
walk?” 

“I am sorry to say that I have to walk,” answered the 


IN MEADOWLAND 


99 

boy in much disappointment, “so of course I can’t think 
of going with you. I move so slowly that I should be 
sure to make you late.” 

“Stuff and nonsense,” replied Butterfly. “I’ll come 
over there and get you. You can sit on my back and so 
get there at just the same time I do.” And the 'merry 
fellow chuckled at his own wit, and without further ado 
over he flew to Peter’s petal. 

“Perhaps I shall be too heavy,” said the boy as he 
made ready to take his seat. 

“Oh, no, you won’t,” said Butterfly. “I am much 
stronger than I look, you know. Take care though and 
be sure that you don’t interfere with my wings. If you 
got mixed up in them I couldn’t fly very far and we both 
might get a good spill. There, that feels all right to 
me. How about you, are you comfortable?” 

“Quite,” replied the boy. “Good-by, friends, I hate to 
leave you and this dear old garden, but I shall not be 
gone long and I’ll tell you all about the ball when I come 
back.” 

“It may be later than you think when you do,” said 
Dawdler, “but if I am not here I will be over home in 
Bee Villa.” 

“Yes, who knows how long he will stay with me?” 
said Butterfly solemnly, but Peter saw him wink at the 
Bee as he spoke. 


XLII 

A BUTTERFLY STEED 

“All aboard! Ready! Hold fast!” cried the saucy 
chap, and amid a chorus of good-bys a/id best wishes 
from the flowers, Butterfly soared high into the air and 
the last sight Peter had of Dawdler was as he was stand- 
ing on the edge of the Rose making a megaphone out of 
his wings and shouting something that he could hardly 
hear, but he did catch the words, “Over the fence, to the 


loo 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


right,” and he judged that his old friend was telling him 
how to find his way back to Bee Villa. 

Butterfly flew so fast and made so many odd dizzying 
turns that the boy on his back felt quite breathless and 
at last he ventured to bend over and ask: 

“I suppose you know what you are doing, but I don’t 
and I am very curious. Would you mind telling me 
why you move with such jerks and why you do not keep 
a straight course?” 

“That seems to me like a foolish question,” said But- 
terfly, and Peter noticed that he was not a bit out of 
breath even though he had been going along with such 
speed. 

“I fly in a zig-zag manner and with fits and starts be- 
cause I don’t wish a bird to seize me in his beak, and he 
would, just as sure as fate, if I flew in a straight, even 
way. This manner dazzles him and he is never sure 
just where I am going to be next and it is hard for him 
to gauge his distance and to do me any harm.” 

“What a wise idea that is,” declared the boy. “It 
never would have occurred to me.” 

“I daresay not,” remarked Butterfly dryly, “but then 
you see you are not in our class. You Humans, I hear, 
are not afraid of anything. But perhaps you would like 
me to tell you how we fool Mr. Bird in another way. 
Hard as it is for him to catch us when we are on the 
wing, it would be easy enough, you know, for him to 
gobble us up when we alight. Have you happened to 
notice that the upper sides of my wings are by far the 
more beautiful, and that the under side is shaded like a 
dry leaf? Well, we fold our wings when we rest, you 
see, and then our bright colors do not show at all, and 
we look from a distance like the earth or like the plant 
tipon which we cling, so not knowing that we are there, 
he doesn’t swoop down upon us unexpectedly. And 
sometimes we are asleep under his very nose.” 

“I am so glad that you know how to protect your- 
selves,” said Peter. “That last trick reminds me a little 
of Uncle Praying Mantis, horrid old thing.” 


f> 0 

t «) 


IN MEADOWLAND 


101 


“Yes, I beg of you, don’t speak of him. It always 
makes a shiver run up and down my back. He is a reg- 
ular bogey in Butterfly Land. As children we are all 
taught to look out for him. In fact we are told to be 
beware of any strangers, no matter how friendly they 



( AM SO GLAB YOU KHOW HOWTO 
PROTECT YOURSELVES" 


may seem. By the way, how do you like the colors on 
my wings? You haven’t told me yet.” 

“They are perfectly lovely,” answered the boy heart- 
ily. There seem to be a number of them and somehow 
they make me think of the flowers we have just left.” 

“That is exactly the point,” said Butterfly. “They 
are like flower colors, some flowers at least. And all 
my brothers and sisters are tinted like the blossoms that 


102 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


they live among. We always wear coats that match the 
general flower color of the season and our home. For 
instance in the spring, those of us who live then are blue 
or partly blue and we dress like the hyacinths, the purple 
crocus and the violet. But some of us look so exactly 
like the dandelion, the cowslip and the crocus in our 
yellow spring clothes that even you would have difficulty 
in distinguishing us from these flowers as we rest upon 
them. And as for the stupid birds, they never find us 
then unless we are very careless indeed. 

u Now the bright colored flowers are out and our coats 
match them in brilliancy, but you must be sure to notice 
when you go into the woods that our wood cousins’ 
clothes are dusky drabs and browns and grays with red 
and black spots, so like the tones of the mosses, the tree 
trunks and the branches that they love.” 

XLIII 

THE GATHERING OF THE CLANS 

“But don’t take my word for it,” continued Butter- 
fly, as though Peter had shown signs of doubting him, 
which he hadn’t in the least, “just wait until you see for 
yourself all my cousins and my sisters and my brothers 
and my aunts at the ball. We will soon be in the 
meadow, now, and if we get there early enough we can 
watch the others arrive. That is lots of fun.” 

“Are you going to keep your appointment with Lily’s 
cousin now or after the party,” asked Peter, and But- 
terfly was so startled that he gave a sudden jerk that 
almost unseated the boy. 

“Good gracious, I had nearly forgotten that. How 
glad I am that you mentioned it, for I had promised to 
call and I always like to keep my word, and besides I 
couldn’t do myself justice this afternoon if I was weighted 
down with all this flower dust. But Miss Tiger Lily lives 
right across the brook we are coming to, so it won’t 


IN MEADOWLAND 


103 

be a bit out of our way. We are nearly there now. Yes, 
I thought so. There she is waiting for me. Didn’t you 
see her wave ?” 

Sure enough, just then Peter did catch sight of a sway- 
ing lily that grew on the bank of a brook, only this one, 
instead of being white and yellow, wore a scarlet gown 
spotted in black and a crown of black and yellow. 

She received Butterfly and Peter with open petals and 
offered them of her dew and honey, and the boy was 
grateful for the sweet drink, for the ride through the 
air had made him thirsty. Not very long did Butterfly 
stop, and after a friendly farewell, off he flew back 
across the brook and then into the loveliest meadow that 
the boy had ever seen. 

The grass was long and very green, and Daisies and 
Black-eyed Susans and pretty pink Queens-of-the- 
Meadow mingled with it. The little brook that they 
had seen had changed its path and ran through the middle 
of the meadow, and Butterfly alighted on a stalk of yel- 
low Buttercup that grew in the shadow of a weeping 
willow. 

“I think you will find it very comfortable here,” he re- 
marked to Peter; “it is fine and cool, and I understood 
you to say that you would rather be in the shade than in 
the sun.” 

“Yes, so I should,” replied the boy, “and this makes 
a splendid grand-stand. But are you sure that Butter- 
cup can accommodate me? Perhaps she has friends of 
her own that she would rather invite to the ball. I should 
like to ask her before I settle myself.” 

“You just stay where you are,” spoke up Buttercup, 
who had evidently heard the conversation. “I shall be 
very glad to have you use me for a grand-stand, what- 
ever that may be. I suppose you mean a place to view 
the dancers. I was expecting another friend of mine 
to come, but there will be plenty of room for you both, 
if he does.” 

“Fine, Buttercup,” declared Sir Butterfly.. “I felt 
certain that you would be glad to have my friend make 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


104 

himself at home. But I must leave you two to get 
acquainted, while I find out about the arrangements of 
the committee, and when my turn comes to perform. 
So long, friend, you will see me later. Have a good 
time, Boy, and be sure to watch carefully my ‘flies.’ I 
shall execute some fancy ones, I can tell you.” 

Off flew the gay fellow and Peter saw him talking to 
a huge Butterfly, very elegant in a coat of scarlet and 
purple, who acted so self-important that the boy judged 
him to be master of ceremonies. 

“They are beginning to arrive now,” Buttercup an- 
nounced to her guest, and sure enough so they were. 

Singly, by twos and threes, and by the hundreds 
swarmed the Butterflies into the grassy ball-room of the 
meadow, and they all seemed to know each other, and as 
each new group arrived those who had preceded them 
rushed forward with outspread wings to greet them. 

“It is a regular ‘gathering of the clans,’ ” thought 
Peter who had just finished reading a story about a 
Scottish chief calling together all his relatives and friends 
to help protect the country against the enemy, “only this 
is going to be a dance, not a fight, and I am very glad 
of it. It seems to me these insect folks fight altogether 
too much, as it is. One always seems to be trying to 
hurt the other.” 


XLIV 

THE BUTTERFLY BALL 

“Might makes Right in Insect-land,” remarked But- 
tercup, and then the boy realized that he had been think- 
ing aloud. “Do all you humans get along without ever 
having any fights at all?” 

“No,” said Peter truthfully, as he remembered the 
many scraps that he himself had had with his school- 
mates. “I am afraid that we do not. But although we 
do disagree with each other and often fight, we do not 
make a practice of killing and eating the people we meet, 


IN MEADOWLAND 


105 

as I have been told that they do in insect circles. That 
is what I think is so terrible.” 

“Doubtless you have other ways of settling troubles,” 
replied Buttercup, “and so have we flowers. We argue 
the thing out and one of the older blossoms decides 
which is right and which is wrong, and we accept her de- 
cision. But then, you see, we never stir from one spot 
from the time we are born and so do not annoy any one 
else nor does any one else annoy us, that is, not often. 
But the insects are such active things that they are 
always getting into some one’s way and running into 
danger, and they have to do many of the things that 
seem to us dreadful, in sheer self-protection. Of course 
some of them are cruel and ugly when they do not need 
to be, but for the most part their readiness to kill is 
because they are so afraid of being killed themselves.” 

“Well, at any rate, Butterflies seem to be peaceful crea- 
tures, and so do the Bees and I am very fond of them 
both. But look, Buttercup, while we have been talking 
they have been getting ready, and yes, I am sure that 
group over by the brook are going to dance first.” 

Sure enough, as he spoke a great number of bright 
yellow butterflies who had lighted upon the ground until 
it looked as if it had burst into blossom, rose from their 
resting place and circling over Peter’s head flew out into 
the open, where they flew first high and then low, and 
made such a dazzling streak of color that it almost hurt 
the boy’s eyes to watch them. They ranged themselves 
in a circle when they had finished, and then a swarm of 
orange and black ones left the clump of milkweed over 
which they had been hovering and, joining forces with a 
number of lovely blue-spotted creatures, danced merrily 
round and round in a perfectly dizzy way. 

When they had tired and taken their places beside the 
yellow dancers, hundreds of small copper-colored fel- 
lows took their turn; and they were followed by a crowd 
of pure white beauties, who gave place to the swallow- 
tail family, gorgeously attired in orange and gold and 
brown and scarlet and purple, with curious spots upon 


io6 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


their wings — great eyes that looked like the figures on 
peacocks’ tails. 

Then individual butterflies began to do their stunts 
and soon Buttercup cried: 

“Look, Boy, there is your friend. Doesn’t he dance 
well?” And there in the center of the ring was Sir 
Butterfly, himself, executing some very fancy flys indeed, 
and Peter was fascinated in watching him. So fast did 
he go that it was impossible to catch all the movements, 
but he was wonderfully graceful and fluttered and circled 
and now hovered perfectly motionless with his wings 
wide open, and the butterflies all waved their wings in 
approval. 

“He is quite the star of the day,” said the boy to 
Buttercup, who replied: 

“I don’t exactly understand how there can be a star 
in the daytime and I don’t in the least see how he re- 
sembles a star anyway, but he most certainly dances the 
best of them all, and he has done so many different 
figures.” 

Peter laughed and was about to tell her what he 
meant by calling Sir Butterfly a “star” when at a signal 
from the Master of Ceremonies all the butterflies rose 
into the air at once. 

“Oh!” cried the boy, “they are going to do a Nan- 
tucket,” and he was too excited in watching them to 
explain what a Nantucket was to Buttercup, although 
she asked him, and instead he said: 

“It looks as if somebody had emptied a whole paint- 
box of colors into the sky. I have never seen so many 
shades in all my life before.” 

XLV 

AFTER THE BALL 

“Nor I,” declared Buttercup, who appeared to be 
just about as enthusiastic as was the boy himself. “I 


IN MEADOWLAND 


107 

have witnessed a great many balls in my short life right 
here in this very meadow, and this is the gayest of them 
all.” 

It did seem as if every hue of earth and sky and sea, 
and flower and rainbow was carried out upon the wings 
of those hundreds and hundreds of dancing figures. And 
as they flew now forward, now backward and often came 
so near that they almost touched the boy perched on his 
buttercup grand-stand, he saw that the wonderful colors 
were put on in streaks, in lines, in dots, in bars and in 
fringes; also that these colors were made more beautiful 
by the soft velvet bodies of the insects, by their slender 
legs, their graceful feelers and their eyes which were so 
sparkling that they reminded him of bright jewels. 

Peter held his breath as he watched, and he sighed 
with regret when the fluttering stopped as suddenly as it 
had begun. He and Buttercup were anxiously waiting 
for the next number on the program when they noticed 
that Sir Butterfly himself was slowly flying towards them 
and soon he alighted on one of Buttercup’s leaves. 

“Well,” he said, “the Butterfly Ball is all over. How 
did you two like it?” 

“It was wonderful,” said Peter, “and you don’t know 
how glad I am that you brought me. I shall never for- 
get it as long as I live.” 

“Of all the dances I have ever seen it was the prettiest 
one,” agreed Buttercup, and then said with a little sigh, 
“I should love to dance too. I wish that I could 
fly away like the rest of you, but from daylight to dark 
I am here in the spot where I was born and the only 
time I even move is when the kind winds rock me gently 
to and fro. Being a flower has its disadvantages.” 

“Never mind, Buttercup dear,” said Sir Butterfly, 
“even if you can’t go to your friends your friends will 
all come to you, and you make them all very happy by 
being just your own bright cheery self. You are so de- 
pendable and they always know where they can find you.” 

“Which counts for a great deal,” remarked Peter. 
“I have found that out.” 


108 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

“What nice things you are both saying to me,” said 
Buttercup in a pleased tone. “I am downright ashamed 
of myself for turning a lighter yellow.” (“I suppose 
she means just what we do when we say we are blue,” 
thought Peter.) “But I am so happy to think you both 



PE.T£L^ had RATHER A HAR'D TIME OF >T 
TRTI MG» TO DR I HK FROM THE BUTTERCUPS BOWL 


came to see me this afternoon. Must you go so soon?” 

She asked the question because Sir Butterfly was al- 
ready waving his wings, as he always did just before 
he started off. 

“To tell you the truth,” said he, “I am awfully tired. 
I practiced for days to be sure of my movements this 
afternoon and to-day’s performance was no easy matter, 
I can tell you I feel like taking a nap, and I see a 



IN MEADOWLAND 


109 

splendid spot over there in the grass right by the edge 
of the brook under the weeping willow. Does it look 
‘comfy’ to you, Boy?” 

“It looks as cool and pleasant as can be,” declared 
Peter, “and although I have enjoyed it immensely here 
with Buttercup, I think we had better go over to the 
place you have chosen, if you are going to sleep. Per- 
haps Buttercup would like to take a doze herself.” 

“Now that you speak of it, I am drowsy,” said the 
flower, “but I am glad to have you as long as you care 
to stay. Do have a drink of buttercup wine, before you 
leave. All my friends say I am an expert at making it.” 

“You certainly are, my dear,” said Sir Butterfly, his 
tongue trembling with eagerness, “and there isn’t a bit 
of doubt but that the Boy will agree with me.” 

Peter had rather a hard time trying to drink from 
the Buttercup’s bowl, — he wasn’t used to it, you see, — 
but Sir Butterfly unrolled his long, slim, tube-like tongue 
and thrust it deep into the bowl and drank deep of the 
delicious fluid that the Buttercup offered him. The boy 
did manage to get enough to find that it was pleasant to 
taste and he thanked the flower heartily as he hopped 
upon the back of his waiting steed. 


XLVI 

UNDER THE WEEPING WILLOW 

This time the ride was not a long one, for the distance 
from Buttercup to the willow tree was trifling and Peter 
could have walked it in no time, as he informed Sir 
Butterfly when he tumbled off his back. 

“This is a good time to tell me so,” laughed the 
latter, “after we are here. I was rather tired and I 
don’t know but what I would have taken you at your 
word if you had mentioned it before we started. But 
never mind that now. Here we are and here we shall 


110 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


probably stay for some time, unless you are in a hurry 
to go home. Are you?” 

“Dear me, no,” said the boy. “You don’t know how 
much I am enjoying myself, and I want to see all that 
there is to be seen in your town. By the way, have you 
a town? You haven’t said a word about where you live.” 

“Everywhere is my home, my son,” answered Sir But- 
terfly in a wise manner. “I live in the gardens, in the 
meadows, in the air, — in fact anywhere I happen to be 
is home to me. We butterflies are all like that. That 
is why we have so many friends among the plants and 
insects. We have no enemies unless it be the birds, and 
— forgive me for saying it — some of the humans who 
hunt us with queer bags that they try to throw over our 
heads.” (“Nets he means !” said Peter to himself.) “We 
are never lonely and therefore we are always happy.” 

“But where do you sleep?” asked the boy. “You must 
have some place to go when you want to go to bed.” 

“Wherever night overtakes us, there we light and fold 
our wings and sleep soundly until the dawn breaks, but 
we don’t do much flying about until the sun comes out 
warm and strong, and then we set out to gather the 
honey and visit all our flower friends, who welcome us 
with open petals. For we bring them the news of the 
fields and meadows as well as pollen, you know. By the 
way, before I forget it, have you ever met my cousin, 
Moth?” 

“Well,” said the boy and he hesitated a moment, for he 
didn’t want to hurt Sir Butterfly’s feelings, “I think I 
have. If I am not mistaken he is the chap who ate a 
hole in my best winter overcoat. I remember how angry 
Mother was about that.” 

“Indeed, the cousin of whom I am speaking never 
did anything of the kind. He eats honey and dew like 
the rest of us,” declared Sir Butterfly. “But I know 
whom you mean. Silver Moth is the scapegoat of the 
family. None of us outdoor folks has much to do with 
him. He is always disgracing us. He lives indoors most 
of the time, doesn’t he?” 


IN MEADOWLAND 


in 


“All I know about him is that he had a home in our 
closet,” replied the boy. “There Mother hung all our 
best clothes, and of course we didn’t know he was there, 
until out he flew one day and Mother discovered my 
coat all covered with little holes. But what large eyes 
you have, Sir Butterfly! You have one on each side of 
your head, haven’t you?” 

“Guess again,” said Butterfly. “I have four. Don’t 
you see the two tiny ones at the back of my head? If 
you look closely you can discover them hidden under 
long hairs.” 

“Why, yes, I do see them now. And I have been long- 
ing to ask you all afternoon what you do with your 
tongue when you are not using it. It looks to me as if 
you rolled it up like a watch-spring,” remarked the boy. 

“Right this time,” said Sir Butterfly. “But it isn’t a 
tongue, it’s a trunk, and as you can notice it is made of 
two pieces with little points upon them” (and he stuck 
it out so that Peter could see). “I can suck the honey 
up between these ridges, and when I have taken 
all I wish I curl up my trunk and keep it safe under these 
two hairy lips on the front of my head.” 

“You learn something every day,” remarked Peter 
half to himself and half to his friend. “I never knew of 
anything that had a trunk but an elephant. But there is 
some difference in the size of the two. Say, Butterfly, 
did you ever see an elephant?” 

XLVII 

COUSIN MOTH COMES UPON THE SCENE 

“Can’t say that I have,” replied Butterfly. “Does he 
fly around in these parts?” 

The idea of an elephant flying was too much for the 
boy and he burst into a loud laugh which much offended 
Sir Butterfly. 

“You Humans haven’t very good manners, have you?” 


112 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

he said quietly. “I wouldn’t think of laughing at any 
one even if he had made a queer remark, especially when 
he was a friend of mine.” 

“Forgive me, dear Butterfly,” begged Peter. “I didn’t 
mean to hurt your feelings, but if you could only dream 
how large an elephant is ! Imagine, if you can, a great 





FL-YirNG* THROUGH THE AtR." 


animal, twice as big as a cow for instance, flying through 
the air. Why, his trunk alone is so strong and heavy 
that he can lift a man right off the ground with it.” 

“Of course I did not know that, but I don’t blame 
you for laughing now that you have told me,” said But- 
terfly, although he was still quite dignified about it. 

“To change the subject,” said Peter quickly, “what a 
soft rich coat of velvet you are wearing, and do you 


IN MEADOWLAND 113 

know, your wings look exactly like fans, and are they 
made of feathers? Do tell me. I have been wondering 
ever since I met you.” 

“We butterflies call them scales and plumes,” an- 
swered Sir Butterfly, “and it is from our wings that we 
get our family name. Come to think of it, I haven’t told 
you that, have I?” 

“Why, it is Butterfly, isn’t it? Of course I know 
that,” said Peter in surprise. 

“That is only one of ou^* names. We are known as 
the Scale-wings. Cousin Moth belongs to the same 
family. But speaking of wings, we use them for moving 
about, it is true, but we are quite proud of the fact that 
we have legs as well, six of them in the bargain, and 
we can walk if we want to, but as a general thing we 
only stand upon them while we eat or rest. But you 
have not said a word about my horns. Mine have knobs 
on the ends of them, but you should see those that Cousin 
Moth carries upon his head. They are sharp and pointed 
and one had better keep out of his way, I can tell you! 
But upon my word, here comes the old fellow now! 
I didn’t expect him nearly so soon. Now that he is here, 
you can view him for yourself. Only be sure not to laugh 
at him. He is very sensitive about being made fun of. 
Greetings, Cousin Night Flier! How is the world treat- 
ing you this afternoon? You are a bit early, aren’t you? 
I didn’t expect to see you out in such broad daylight,” 
continued Sir Butterfly, addressing his cousin. 

“Why not, I’d like to know?” replied the Moth. “You 
insist upon considering me as a creature of the night, 
when, although to be sure I do like the darkness best, I 
am often about in the daytime too, and always have been. 
I should like to meet your friend, Butterfly. Is he a new 
member of the Scale-wing family? I don’t remember 
seeing him before.” 

“No, Cousin, this is a human — a Boy — and a fine fel- 
low too. Do you know, we were talking about you just 
before you came? He is very interested in wings. Come 
over here and let him see the hook on yours.” 


ii 4 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

The Moth did as his cousin asked and sure enough, 
Peter discovered a regular little hook and catch with 
which, as Butterfly pointed out, he fastened the lower 
wing to the upper one when he started upon a flight. 

“I don’t suppose you know it,” remarked the Moth 
when he had shown Peter his wing fasteners, “but you are 
sitting right on the spot where we moths are going to 
hold a council meeting this afternoon. The day. fliers 
and the night fliers will all be here and we are going to 
discuss ‘Caterpillar Welfare.’ Do you two want to stay? 
If you do, you are my guests, but if you do not you had 
better take yourselves off, for the committee is coming 
now. I see General Hawk Moth crossing the brook.” 


XLVIII 

THE COUNCIL MEETING 

“Let’s stay, Butterfly,” begged Peter, clapping his 
hands in glee. “I’d love to meet all your Moth cousins, 
and I am sure that the council will be as interesting as 
can be. Are you sure that you don’t mind?” he asked, 
turning to Cousin Moth. 

“Of course not, my dear fellow,” replied the other 
cordially. “My comrades will be glad to welcome you to 
their midst. But I warn you. The meeting is going to 
be for serious business and I am afraid that you will 
not find anything very entertaining about it. By the way, 
do you like caterpillars? There may be some of them 
here, too.” 

“Well, I never have been deeply in love with them,” 
the boy confessed slowly. “But that is probably because 
I don’t know anything about them. They are so homely, 
and so sort of slimy, — not in the least beautiful and 
graceful, as you are. I wonder that you have anything 
to do with them.” 

“Which shows that you know nothing at all about us,” 


IN MEADOWLAND 


115 

declared Moth, somewhat peevishly, the boy thought. 
“It is high time that you learned that the caterpillars are 
much beloved by the Scale-wing family, for every blessed 
one of us was once a caterpillar.” 

“What!” exclaimed the boy. “Do you mean to say 
that you and Sir Butterfly were once creeping, crawling 
creatures like that?” 

“That is just exactly what we were,” laughed Sir But- 
terfly, “and Cousin Moth is as proud of the fact as am 
I. You see, we went through a great deal to become 
what we are now, and we wouldn’t have missed the ex- 
perience for anything. But if you really want to stay 
to the meeting, we will do so, and then you will under- 
stand a lot about many things that you evidently don’t 
dream of now.” 

By this time the great, silent white flier whom But- 
terfly’s Cousin had called Hawk Moth had reached them 
and he responded to their greetings with a solemn wave 
of his feelers. It was quite evident that he was to be 
chairman of the council, for he immediately took his place 
upon a smooth white pebble that lay upon the bank and 
drew from somewhere about his furry body a tiny blue- 
bell which he carefully laid beside him. (“I do believe 
that he is going to call the meeting to order with that,” 
said Peter to himself, and it turned out later that he was 
right.) 

The first remark that Hawk Moth made was to an- 
nounce in a deep voice, “My brother, gentlemen, — Mr. 
Death’s Head,” after which he made room upon his 
pebble platform for the newcomer. 

“What an unpleasant name to have,” remarked the 
boy in an undertone to Butterfly, who replied in a 
whisper : 

“So it is, but don’t you see how he comes by it? 
Look at that skull upon his back, will you?” And there, 
sure enough, was the grewsome thing marked out in black 
and white. 

The next arrival the chairman introduced as Grand- 
father Wasp Moth, and it was so slim and its wings were 


1 16 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

so thin and clear and its body was so banded in yellow and 
black that it scarcely looked like a moth at all. 

“It’s a good thing that Hawk Moth told us his name,” 
remarked Peter in an aside to Cousin Moth. “I should 
most certainly have taken him for a hornet.” 

“That wouldn’t have been strange,” answered the lat- 
ter. “Some of his best friends do, at a distance. He 
does appear much like one, and because he does he is 
called ‘Wasp Moth,’ you see.” 

A tiny fellow now came flying through the air and 
alighted directly in front of Sir Butterfly, who nudged 
Peter and whispered: 

“There is the precious member of the Scale-wing family 
who disgraces our name so often. It was a chap like him 
who £te the holes in your overcoat. He looks harmless 
enough, but he is a sly one.” 

The boy looked and saw only a wee silver fringy roll 
with little gray wings and he was rather astonished to 
find that he was the one who did the damage, smallest of 
the tribe though he was. 


XLIX 

THE HONORABLE MRS. SILKWORM 

It was quite plain to be seen that this last comer was 
anything but popular with his family, for none of them 
paid the least attention to him, and in fact Cousin Moth 
deliberately turned his back upon him. Although the 
chairman was in duty bound to announce his presence and 
introduced him as “Tinea,” one could easily see how he 
felt. 

“Nobody invited him,” remarked Cousin Moth rudely 
in a voice that might have been intended for a whisper but 
which could be plainly heard. And that Tinea had heard 
him was evident by the way he flitted out of sight be- 
hind the pebble. 

“That was too bad of you, Cousin,” said Sir Butter- 


IN MEADOWLAND 


117 

fly. “What was the use of hurting his feelings? He 
may be in disgrace, but after all he has a perfect right 
here, for he is one of the family, you know. You can’t 
alter that fact, and it may do him some good to be with 
us to-day.” 

“I certainly hope it will,” grumbled the outspoken 
Moth, “but I doubt it. Nothing seems to make him mend 
his evil ways. As for hurting his feelings, why shouldn’t 
I? He never spares other people’s.” 

The two might have argued longer on the subject, but 
just at this moment up came a dull, indeed a homely little 
moth, and much to Peter’s astonishment all the assembled 
insects rose to greet it and General Hawk Moth honored 
it with “Welcome, Sister,” and insisted upon its tak- 
ing a seat at his right. 

“They seem to like that little moth the best,” remarked 
Peter to Sir Butterfly, “yet she looks to me the plainest 
of them all.” 

“You never can tell by appearances, my friend. That is 
the honorable Mrs. Bombyx.” 

“I never even heard of her,” said the boy, who had 
expected to learn that she was some one of importance 
from the way the council members acted. 

“Perhaps you know her by her caterpillar name,” sug- 
gested Cousin Moth. “When she is at that stage of her 
life she is called a Silkworm.” 

“Of course I know her now,” exclaimed Peter so loudly 
that General Hawk-moth looked at him with much dis- 
approval and gravely remarked: 

“A little less noise, if you please, the meeting is about 
to be called to order.” 

The boy lowered his voice to say that he had read all 
about her and that his mother had several dresses that 
had been spun by the silkworms. 

“Do you notice what a short trunk she has?” queried 
Sir Butterfly. “She doesn’t need a long one, for she 
never eats after she becomes a moth. All she lives for is 
to lay hundreds and hundreds of eggs, .which will turn 
into silkworms, of course, and after she has performed 


1 18 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

this duty, she dies, poor thing. And yet in her short life 
she does more real good than all the rest of us put to- 
gether. That’s why we all think such a great deal of 
her. She does her duty, regardless of the cost. Quite 
different from Tiny (we call Tinea that for short), isn’t 



4 A LITTLE LESS IF" VOU 


“I should say so,” began the boy, but he was inter- 
rupted as he was about to continue the conversation by 
the ringing of a very sweet faint bell. For a moment 
he didn’t know what it was, but Cousin Moth nudged him 
to be silent and pointed with his feelers towards Gen- 
eral Hawk Moth, and then Peter saw that the chairman 
of the council was frantically waving the blue-bell as a 
sign that he wished silence. As soon as he had gotten 



ii9 


IN MEADOWLAND 

Peter’s attention, — by this time all the others were ear- 
nestly watching the leader, — he said in his deep voice: 

“The meeting is called to order. All the members 
of the council are present or accounted for. Let us 
proceed with the business of the day.” 

L 

THE CATERPILLAR PARADE 

“What is the business of the day, General?” asked 
Wasp Moth. “I only received notice to come this morn- 
ing, and beyond being asked to have my caterpillar here, 
I don’t know what it is all about.” 

“Why did you suppose you were requested to tell your 
caterpillar to come?” asked the General scornfully. “We 
have met this afternoon to decide how to improve con- 
ditions for our caterpillars, for I for one consider Cater- 
pillar Welfare one of the important questions of the 
day.” 

Cousin Moth now waved his wings as a signal that he 
wanted to speak and said in rather an excited manner: 

“But, Sir Chairman, what I should like to know is, 
where are our caterpillars? Mine promised to be here at 
two o’clock and it is that now by the wild daisy, — she is 
just at her brightest, as you can all see if you look at her. 
Does anybody know anything about the others?” 

“Two o’clock was the time set for them all to come, — 
I told mine to be here then,” spoke up another member. 
“And so did I” — “and I,” “and I,” declared the others. 

“Well, I can’t see anything to get excited about,” re- 
marked Death’s Head calmly. “Here comes mine crawl- 
ing down the road, now, and I think, if I am not mis- 
taken, that the rest are following closely behind him.” 

“You are right,” said Sir Butterfly, who, shading his 
eyes with his wings, had been looking in that direction 
ever since Death’s Head spoke. “They are going to get 
here promptly to the minute. Good for them. They 


120 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


must have allowed themselves plenty of time, for they 
move so slowly.” 

Peter jumped to his feet and strained his eyes to see 
the Caterpillars, but at first all he could distinguish was 
a cloud of dust along the sandy bank of the brook. But 
presently out of this dust emerged a fat green head and 
finally the boy could see all of the great body to which 
this head was attached, and sure enough, behind it came 
the rest of the expected guests. 

The procession of caterpillars crept slowly but surely 
along towards the council place and when they arrived 
they were heartily welcomed by the moths, and each 
caterpillar took up his position by his particular flier. 

Peter was so interested in watching them that he hadn’t 
noticed Sir Butterfly for some time, and now he heard 
him give a little cry. 

“Well of all things, how on earth did you happen to 
come, dear old thing?” Sir Butterfly was saying to some 
new arrival. “I never expected you. How did you know 
that I was here? I didn’t know that I was coming my- 
self.” 

“I happened to meet Yellow Fairy, and he told me that 
after the ball he had seen you come over here and that 
he knew there was going to he a meeting of the moths and 
that he guessed you were going to it. And Hawk Moth’s 
caterpillar told me that he was going with the other 
caterpillars so I thought maybe you might need me.” 

“I don’t know that I will actually need you,” said But- 
terfly, “but I am mighty glad to see you. Stay right here 
beside me and we can talk about old times until our 
turn comes, if it does.” 

The boy heard this conversation with some surprise 
and turning squarely around he saw that his friend’s new 
companion was a beautiful brilliant green caterpillar with 
twelve rings which formed his body, and on each of these 
rings was a black band and on each black band were gay 
yellow spots. 

Peter leaned over to look at him more closely and the 


IN MEADOWLAND 


121 


creature darted out little forked horns from somewhere 
behind his head, and the boy drew back in a hurry. 

“Gracious, how he scared me!” he exclaimed, and But- 
terfly laughed at him. 

“That is exactly what he intended to do,” said he. 
“He was afraid that you were going to touch him, and 
not knowing you he was afraid you would hurt him and 
so he did that to protect himself.” 


LI 

WASP-MOTH AND DEATH’S HEAD TELL THEIR TALES 

“Dear me, I am sorry if I have offended your friend,” 
remarked the caterpillar who had shown his horns to 
Peter. “I didn’t know he was with you, and for a min- 
ute I was frightened myself.” 

“Oh, don’t apologize,” said Peter quickly. “I shouldn’t 
have been so rude as to stare at you like that. But 
you are very striking to look at, you know.” 

“Do you really think I am?” asked the fellow. “You 
should have seen my father, he was far more handsome 
than I.” 

“Silence,” commanded the Chairman at this point. 
“Now that we and our ‘first stages’ are here, we can 
begin the council in earnest. It happens that it is just 
time for most of the assembled caterpillars to enter the 
pupa state, and in order that we may learn how we can 
better conditions for the generations of ourselves to come, 
they are, in turn going to give us exhibitions of their life 
as they enter that state, and we will tell them where the 
eggs are laid from which they hatch as caterpillars. Is 
every one ready? Very well, then. Wasp Moth, we will 
begin with you, and when you have finished your story, 
your caterpillar may continue it.” 

“Well,” began Wasp Moth after he had flown into the 


122 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 

center of the circle, “as you all probably know, my fa- 
vorite time of day is the hot noon time. I am not a night 
flier, as so many of our family are. My home and that 
of my brothers is somewhere near a tree or a shrub, 
and it is under their bark that our eggs are laid.” 

“That is very interesting,” said General Hawk Moth. 
“And now tell us what happens next.” 

“My wife and I then die,” answered Wasp Moth 
sadly. “Our work is over.” 

“But ours is only just beginning,” said his caterpillar, 
stepping forward. “For out of one of those eggs I was 
hatched and in a few moments I am going to bore a hole 
in the bark of this weeping willow and eat and eat and 
eat.” 

“Eat what, pray tell?” asked one of the moths. “What 
can you find in a tree?” 

“The bark, of course,” answered Wasp Moth eater- 
pillow. “That is our favorite food. ' And after I have 
•eaten all that I can possibly hold, I shall have dug myself 
quite a deep hole and in this hole I shall curl myself up, 
after I have lined it with silk, and enter upon my pupa 
state. After a while I shall wake up, and dragging my 
cocoon to the door of the hole I shall tear it off and 
then I shall fly off a butterfly like you, Wasp Moth, with 
a coat as fine as yours.” 

When he had finished his tale the moths waved their 
feelers in approval, and the caterpillar slowly crawled 
over to the willow tree where he commenced to bore his 
hole and to cram bark into his “tummy,” as fast as he 
could, but nobody except Peter paid the least attention 
to him, and he soon forgot him, so interesting were the* 
things that Death’s Head was telling. 

“As for me, I have just seen my wife lay her eggs 
in the ground near a potato patch,” said he, and just as 
he spoke his caterpillar stepped upon his foot and Death’s 
Head uttered the sharpest little squeak, that astonished 
the boy greatly for it sounded more like a mouse than a 
moth. 

“I beg your pardon,” said his caterpillar politely, “I 


IN MEADOWLAND 123 

thought you had come to the end of your story and it 
was my turn next.” 

“Well, so I had and so it is, but you needn’t have been 
in such a hurry,” grumbled the angry chap, but he soon 
calmed down and listened to the rest of the tale. 



BUT NOBODY EXCEPT PET ETR RAJ 13 
the: kEA^TATTEnriOrl TQ 


“Mrs. Death’s Head buries her eggs near a potato 
patch on our account,” began his successor, “because it is 
on the potato vines that we live. I want you all to notice 
that I am green and gray and yellow and have bluish 
stripes upon my sides, and I have been told that I am 
every bit as handsome as Sir Butterfly’s caterpillar, even 
if some people don’t say so.” And the conceited thing 
glared at Peter in an extremely disagreeable way. 




124 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


LI I 

THE CRADLE IN THE MULBERRY TREE 

“Dear me,” said the boy to Sir Butterfly, “I certainly 
insulted him without knowing it. I hope he doesn’t take 
a real dislike to me. He looks sort of dangerous, and 
he must be at least four inches long and as thick as a 
man’s finger. Will he attack me, do you think?” 

“No indeed, he won’t,” said Butterfly. “He is not 
really angry, only a little bit injured in his pride and he 
will soon forget all about it. Don’t notice it at all.” 

The speaker continued. 

“When I have grown nice and fat I shall know that it 
is time to hide in the moist earth and I shall spin a 
cocoon that some say reminds them of a sea shell and 
there I shall spend my pupa days, until I too burst out, 
bearing on my back a skull that is the coat-of-arms of my 
particular branch of the family.” 

“Very good,” declared General Hawk Moth, “and now 
after the Honorable Mrs. Bombyx has told how the eggs 
are laid, her caterpillar will complete the story by spin- 
ning his cocoon for us. Only we must all fly over to 
yonder mulberry tree, for that is where the silkworms 
always sleep the best.” 

Without more ado and in great excitement all the Scale- 
wings flew towards the mulberry tree, and even Sir But- 
terfly in his evident anxiety to miss nothing, forgot all 
about Peter, who ran after them as quickly as he could. 
But the mulberry tree was quite a distance off, and when 
the boy reached it and edged his way through the crowd 
the Bombyx caterpillar had finished whatever he had to 
say and was spinning hundreds of yards of fine silk 
thread, wagging his head from side to side as if he was 
in great pain, as the boy thought at first he must be. 
But as none of the moths paid the least bit of attention 
to it Peter concluded that it was only the motion that 
he had to make in order to spin, and he was quite right. 


IN MEADOWLAND 


125 

Then at last, having spun a great quantity of silk, the 
caterpillar wrapped himself tightly in it, leaving his head 
until the last, for his spinner was in his head and it was 
from there that the sticky yellow stuff came that turned 
into soft silk as soon as it was drawn out. 

“There,” exclaimed General Hawk Moth when the 
head was at last covered, “Friend Silkworm will sleep in 
his silken cradle until the day comes for him to wake up 
a moth like the Honorable Mrs. Bombyx, here. And 
now, Sir Butterfly, since you are with us to-day, we will 
now call upon you to do your share in this educational 
exhibition.” 

“I believe that every one of you here knows almost as 
much about me in my butterfly state as I do myself,” 
laughed the jolly Scale-wing, “but you may not have 
heard or seen quite as much about my caterpillar, so I 
will withdraw in favor of him, and as he is just about 
to begin his spinning he may as well start now. He 
came prepared.” 

All the moths and Peter looked on earnestly as the 
caterpillar mentioned turned and seemed to be looking 
for something. At last he found it, and hastening off 
climbed upon a wild carrot plant. Crawling up the stem 
he hung there and began to speak. 

“I am a hungry chap, you know, and all my caterpillar 
life I like to eat and I prefer carrots to anything else. 
When I have stuffed until my skin is too tight for me 
I shed it and get another one, and this morning I meas- 
ured myself and found that I was an inch and a half 
long and then I knew that the hour had come for me 
to make myself into a pupa. So, if you will watch me 
closely you will see how I do it. Good-by, everybody. 
You will never see me again until I am a beautiful Swal- 
lowtail like Sir Butterfly, here.” 


126 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

• • } 

LIII 

FLIERS OF THE NIGHT 

With his last words, he started to spin a silken rope 
and with this rope he bound his body tightly to the stem 
of the wild carrot plant. 

“Since you are all so interested,” said Sir Butterfly, 
“I will tell you what will happen before he comes out. 
His long body will shorten and become real thick, and 
his caterpillar skin will burst and drop off, and the silk 
in which he has wound himself will harden and protect 
him. And since it is so warm now, in about two weeks 
this skin will crack because he will breathe so hard and 
struggle so to come out into the sunlight, and then, wet 
and weak, a butterfly exactly like myself will pull itself out 
of the case. And after it has breathed the fresh air a few 
times its body will grow dry and its legs firm and it will 
soar off into the heavens, and although it may never be 
as wise as some of you, it will be happy and gay all 
its days.” 

“That is something we may all envy,” said General 
Hawk Moth, and all his relatives agreed with him in 
declaring that Butterfly’s tale was the most interesting 
of all. The chairman was about to bring the meeting 
to a close when he was stopped by an exclamation from 
Peter, who had caught sight of an object in the grass. 

“Look,” he cried. “Isn’t that some one coming to 
join us? I thought I saw him trying to attract your 
attention.” 

All the moths turned to gaze in the direction in which 
the boy was pointing, and they exclaimed in chorus : 

“Why, it’s Sphinx Moth!” and Death’s Head called: 

“Hurry up there, Brother. You are almost too late.” 

It was a queer little image that now appeared, and 
he did not seem in any hurry to arrive, either. He would 
crawl a few paces and then erect the front half of his fat, 
spineless body, staying there for seconds at a time, and 


IN MEADOWLAND 


127 

as he sat up in this queer way, Peter could see that he 
held something between his front feet, as a monkey would 
hold a nut between its paws, from which he seemed to 
be nibbling bites in great contentment. At last he threw 
it from him, and then as if to make up for lost time up 
he scurried. 

“Hello, everybody,” said he calmly. “Excuse me for 
finishing my dinner. Can I be of any service to you in 
relating the story of my life?” 

“No, you cannot,” snapped the chairman, angrily. “You 
took your own good time coming, now you can go home 
again. Gentlemen, the council meeting is over.” 

“Well,” said Butterfly, “I for one am sleepy and I am 
going to bed under the first big leaf I find. You can 
come and share it with me, Boy, if you have no other 
plans.” 

Peter didn’t much relish the idea of sleeping in such 
quarters, but he didn’t know what else to do, and just 
then a lovely, cream-colored moth with pink spots upon 
its wings, whom he had not noticed before, flew up to 
him. 

“Wouldn’t you like to go night-flying with me?” he 
asked politely. “I should be delighted to have you.” 

“Yes, do, do,” cried all the moths, “we will show you 
night life in Moth-land.” 

Peter was much pleased to receive the invitation, but 
he was not sure that he ought to accept it. 

“Do you think that I shall be able to keep awake?” he 
asked. “I am not used to staying up all night long, you 
know.” 

“You can sleep upon my back, if you like,” said Moon 
Moth, for he it was who had asked Peter to go, “and 
then if you don’t find that comfortable we can make other 
arrangements.” 

“Don’t worry,” said Butterfly, “Moon Moth will take 
good care of you and so will I. Now then, which will 
you choose? We daytime fellows want to find a place 
in which to spend the night before it gets dark and the 
night-fliers are anxious to be off, so hurry up and decide.” 


128 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


LIV 

THE MOON MOTH EXPRESS 

“Well,” said the boy after a second’s thought, “I think 
if you don’t mind, dear Butterfly, that I will go with 
Moon Moth here, for I may never again have a chance 
to fly in the night and I am sure that it will be no end of 
fun and excitement, and besides you have done so much 
for me that I know you must be tired out and you need 
a good night’s rest, and I don’t for the life of me see 
how both of us could sleep under one leaf. I am afraid 
that I should roll off on the ground if I tried it. But 
I shall never forget how good you have been to me, 
and we are friends for ‘keeps,’ aren’t we, old chap?” 

“Of course we are,” said Sir Butterfly, “and I have had 
just as good a time out off it as you have, for I must 
say you are one of the jolliest fellows I have ever met. 
Go ahead with our night-flier friend, and when you get 
ready come and see me again. You know where you can 
find me, — in the Garden of Delight, or if not, then But- 
tercup will tell you where I am.” 

“All aboard for Moon Moth Express,” shouted the 
moths, and “So long, Boy, take care of yourself ’til we 
meet again,” cried Sir Buttercup. Peter climbed care- 
fully upon the back of the new steed who, with out- 
stretched wings, was waiting for him to mount and, as 
soon as he was comfortably seated, soared into the air 
and in no time at all they left Butterfly far in the dis- 
tance. 

The other night fliers followed them, and as they flew 
along others joined the crowd and, dusky as it was, Peter 
noticed that some were dressed in pea-green and silver, or 
in rose-pink, or in a bright lemon color. 

At last it became so dark that Peter couldn’t see where 
they were going, but suddenly his steed swooped down 
in a way that made the boy quite dizzy, something tickled 


IN MEADOWLAND 


129 

his ear and he noticed an odor sweeter than anything he 
had ever smelled before. 

“Where are we, and what is it that smells so de- 
licious?” he asked the moth, but the moth sounded exactly 
as if he had something in his mouth, for at first the boy 
could not understand what he said, but at last he replied: 

“I hope you don’t mind my not answering you right 
away, but I was drinking my evening sip of honey from 
the cup of the honeysuckle. We are in the very heart of 
a honeysuckle, you know.” 

“My, but it is lovely here,” sighed Peter in delight. 
“Are we going to stay here for the night.” 

“I should say not,” declared Moon Moth. “Our fly- 
ing has only just begun. Over there my brothers have 
flown ahead and discovered something and are calling 
us. Can’t you see them? I wonder what they have 
found.” 

Peter couldn’t see them at all, but he didn’t like to say 
so. Just then, however, the moon came up and he saw 
that Moon Moth had alighted on the trunk of a tree and 
that just below him on the trunk hung something that 
looked to the boy like a rag, and as he looked closer he 
saw that this rag was covered with sticky sugar and that 
most of the moths were greedily feasting on the sweets 
that they were so fond of and had found spread out all 
ready for them. 

“I don’t like the looks of this at all,” he heard Hawk 
Moth mutter to his steed. “Anything that comes so 
easily is not worth while taking.” 

“It looks to me like a trap,” said Moon Moth in a 
low tone, and Peter who had been straining his eyes 
in the darkness saw something moving just above the 
unconscious moths. 

“It is, it is!” cried he in great excitement. “I am sure 
they are going to be caught in a net. Call them off 
quickly, General Hawk Moth.” 

In some way, though, Death’s Head who had been 
busily eating had discovered that something was wrong 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


130 

and he gave that queer little squeak of his, and it so 
startled the others that they rose with outstretched wings 
just in time to escape the net in which a man was cun- 
ningly trying to catch them. 

LV 

CAUGHT IN THE NET 

“Help, help, help!” The fleeing moths heard the 
despairing cries and turned quickly about to see what had 
happened, their wings trembling. 

By the light of the moon, Peter saw to his dismay that 
not all of his friends had been fortunate enough to es- 
cape. Several of the new arrivals had been so intent upon 
sucking up all the sweet syrup that they had found spread 
out for them that they had not heard or had paid no at- 
tention to Death’s Head’s warning, and when they did 
realize that they were in danger it had been too late. 
There in the net they were caught fast, and were trying 
in vain to get away. 

Just then a boyish voice exclaimed: 

“What a shame that so many of them got off! I saw 
some beauties that would have been fine for our collec- 
tion. What on earth made you so slow with that net, 
Bill? If you had been a bit quicker you could have 
covered them, I am sure.” 

“I was afraid that I would scare them,” replied an- 
other voice. “But I don’t see how they detected me, as 
careful as I was. However, there is no use in crying 
over spilt milk. We shall have to be satisfied with those 
we have, and after all they are not such bad specimens. 
Have you got the ether ready?” 

Peter shuddered, for he knew that never again would 
the foolish pretty moths fly about in the moonlit night. 
They were doomed to adorn a glass case. How could 
those boys be so cruel! And then, dark as it was, he 
was afraid that the moths would see him blushing and 


IN MEADOWLAND 


131 

would ask him what was the matter, and he would never 
dare tell them that he too had once been guilty of cap- 
turing Scale-wings and keeping them for himself and his 
friends to look at. 

General Hawk Moth spoke at this moment, and Peter 
did not like the way his voice sounded. 

“You are a Boy, aren’t you?” he demanded, and then 
before Peter could answer he continued. “And they were 
Boys, too, weren’t they? That is the way that your 
kind treat the folks of the forest and field who have never 
harmed them, while we, instead of trying to injure you 
(and we could, you know), do everything in our power 
to make you happy. What have you to say to that, Sir!” 

“Nothing,” said Peter, rather weakly, it must be con- 
fessed. “Only that I am very much ashamed.” 

“Pooh, I dare say that you have done it yourself and 
will do it again!” snorted his accuser. 

“I can truthfully promise you that I will never do it 
again,” said the boy, earnestly answering the last half 
of the sentence. 

“I for one don’t believe that he will, General,” said 
Moon Moth gently. “He was the first to give the alarm 
for us to escape, you remember.” 

“So he was,” said Hawk Moth, a little less crossly. 
“And it is a mighty good thing that he did, or none of 
us would have been here now. We would have been be- 
coming acquainted with ‘ether’ whoever he is. By the 
way, Boy, who is he?” 

“Ether is an ‘it,’ not a ‘he,’ ” answered the boy, but 
he did not want to worry the moths by telling them much 
about it, besides he was just a bit afraid to. “And it is 
something that puts one to sleep?” 

“Does it hurt?” quickly asked Death’s Head. 

“Not a bit,” declared the boy hurridly, for he imagined 
that his questioner was not inclined to be any too friendly 
toward him at that moment. “In fact it is very pleasant 
and your brothers won’t mind it a bit.” 

“Will they come back to us afterwards?” asked the 
fellow. 


132 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

“I am afraid not,” said Peter. “They are so hand- 
some, you know, that I do not believe their captors 
will let them go.” It was a white lie, and the boy was 
ashamed of himself for hiding in such a way what had 
really happened to the moths, but he didn’t see what else 
he could do. After all, it made their relatives feel much 
happier and that was something, and it certainly made 
things less disagreeable for him. 

LVI 

THE LIGHT WORSHIPERS 

He was relieved to find that his last remark had seemed 
to please the moths and they grew more friendly towards 
him. 

“Think we are handsome, do they? Well, even if they 
are only Boys, I must say they show good taste,” re- 
marked the old General. “I am rather sorry now that 
they didn’t catch me. Then they would have had some- 
thing to be proud of! By the way, I think I see a pool 
over yonder. I must see if my wings are tilted as they 
should be,” and off flew the vain fellow to admire himself 
in the water which the moon lighted up like a mirror, 
and all the other moths, forgetting their poor brothers 
in the delight of viewing their own beauty, followed 
him. 

Moon Moth was the only one of them all who didn’t 
dash off to the pool mirror. “Pooh,” said he to Peter 
as he flew slowly by his conceited companions, “I’d much 
rather be drinking honey or playing tag with the fire- 
flies than gazing at myself in the water. I am good 
looking and I know it, and that satisfies me. I don’t 
have to be staring at myself every little while, that’s one 
thing sure. But look! Yonder is a light. See how 
beautiful it is. Come, brothers, come. Leave that pool 
and let us go to the light. It is calling us.” 

“Where is it, Moon Moth,” cried the night fliers ea- 


IN MEADOWLAND 


133 

geriy. “Tell us quickly, so we may go and warm our- 
selves in its rays.” 

“Just over beyond that clump of trees,” replied Moon 
Moth. “I saw it first, and so I will lead you to it.” Off 
he started flying so quickly that Peter had all he could 
do to cling fast to his seat. 

The others quickened their pace too, and Peter sailed 
on, surrounded on all sides by the fliers of the night, who 
as they flew chanted this pretty little song: 

“Light, light, beautiful light 
Shining to guide us in our flight. 

Happy and carefree 
We fly to worship thee, 

Warm us and welcome 
The fliers of night.” 

At first all that the boy could see was a faint glimmer 
through the trees; but as his steed drew nearer, the light 
grew brighter and then to his astonishment he discovered 
that it was the rays of a lamp that was shining out 
brightly from the window of a house. 

He tried to tell Moon Moth what it was, but it seemed 
to make little impression upon him, for he flew steadily 
on. 

“We don’t care what it is, Boy,” said he earnestly. 
“It is light and we must follow it, wherever it may be.” 

“But this light is right inside of a house and perhaps 
the window is not open. In that case, you will only batter 
your wings against the glass. But if you do enter and 
get to the light as you are so anxious to do, don’t you 
know that it will be so hot that it will burn you?” 

“That makes no difference,” still answered the moths. 
“It is light and we follow it.” 

“Well, I call that a very stupid thing to do,” cried the 
boy provoked at their stubbornness. “I tell you that 
you will be burned to death! Don’t go near it.” 

But without paying any further attention to his warn- 
ing on flew the insects, right towards the window. 

“Oh, oh,” cried several of them who had not watched 
carefully enough where they were going and had flown 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


134 

into the wall of the house instead of ^through the window 
as they had intended, “we have broken our wings, we are 
lost,” and the poor things fell to the ground. Peter 
felt sorry for them, but their brothers paid no heed at all 
to their cries but only pushed and shoved each other in 
their hurry to reach their goal. 

Moon Moth was among the first to fly through the win- 
dow and into the room, but he must have been a bit dazed 
by the sudden brilliancy of the light, for he dashed into 
the table upon which the lamp was standing, and the 
crash tumbled Peter off his back and onto the floor, where 
he bumped his head so hard that he was stunned and lay 
there not knowing what had happened. 

LVII 

AN EARLY CALLER 

When he regained consciousness it was broad daylight. 
Then he suddenly remembered how he came to be lying 
on the floor in a strange house. Their fate and his fall 
were all the fault of those headstrong moths. 

“Every one knows his own land best,” thought he. 
“They should have taken my advice and never flown 
through the window. I would have done as they said 
had I been in their place.” 

He must have spoken the last words aloud without 
realizing it for a squeaky voice said as if in answer to 
them : 

“It never pays to be too smart. I found that out long 
ago. If some one else knows more than you do, why, 
never be too proud to ask his advice and profit by it. 
That’s what I say.” 

Peter sat up quickly and looked about him, but not a 
thing could he see. He couldn’t find any one to whom 
he thought the voice might belong. 

“Who is speaking?” he cried eagerly. “I can hear a 
voice, but I can’t see anybody.” 


IN MEADOWLAND 


135 

“Look again,” went on the same squeaky speaker. “I 
don’t think very much of your eyesight if you can’t find me 
now. I am certainly large enough to be noticed by 
everybody, wherever I may go. I hope that I shan’t 
have to call you stupid, Boy.” 

The sound came from the direction of the window, 
and Peter peered eagerly out; and then, just as he was 
about to give up in despair, there right upon the window- 
sill he caught sight of something that made him spring 
up with a whoop. 

“Good morning, Lady Bird!” cried he. “How glad I 
am to see you, now that I can really talk to you! Did 
you know that I could?” 

“Of course I did,” answered the insect. “Sam Spider 
told me, and as soon as I heard it I thought I 
would come and make you a visit. We have often met 
before and you have never hurt me, so I like you. I 
came to ask you to take a walk with me this morning. 
Rose Beetle and Stag Beetle are giving a hunting party, 
and we can watch the sport, although we can’t join in 
because we are too small.” 

“Oh, do you know the Beetles?” demanded Peter. “I 
have always wanted to meet them.” 

“I should say I did! Why, Beetle is my last name. I 
belong to the Beetle family, my dear Boy, and a very fine 
family it is too, I can tell you. But come on now, we 
are wasting too much of this fine day in doing nothing. 
Are you ready?” 


LVIII 

PETER RUNS INTO A TRAP 

Under the rose bush at the end of the garden path 
Peter found that the beetles had all assembled and were 
waiting for the hunt to start. Lady Bird, of course, had 
arrived a little ahead of him and now she turned to meet 
him. 

“You did pretty well, Boy,” said she, “but Stag and 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


136 

Rose are such impatient things that I had hard work 
to make them wait until you got here. Hurry up now, so 
that you can meet them before they leave.” 

Peter scurried after the little lady, and just as he turned 
the corner of the rose bush he ran straight between the 
jaws of a great creature who glared down savagely at 
him. The boy hastily tried to back away, but his coat 
caught on the knobs of one of the horns and he was held 
there perfectly helpless. He was sure that he was going 
to meet a horrible fate when he heard Lad/ Bird’s voice 
say : 

“Let me introduce you, Stag, to my friend, Boy. He 
is going to be my guest at the hunt this morning.” 

“Indeed! One might think from the looks of things 
that he was going to be mine,” remarked the fierce ap- 
pearing creature, and then much to Peter’s horror he 
slowly opened his great mouth and actually smiled. The 
boy laughed out loud with relief. 

“It does seem as if I had rather forced myself upon 
you — doesn’t it — and I am sure I beg your pardon. I 
was so anxious not to keep you waiting any longer that 
I didn’t look where I was going.” 

“Oh, that’s all right,” answered the fellow, who quite 
evidently was not one-half as savage as he looked. “These 
old jaws of mine are always getting some one into trouble 
and they put me to no end of inconvenience, and the worst 
of it is, I don’t know myself exactly what they are for 
and nobody has ever been able to tell me. Of course I 
can give a good pinch with them in time of need, but then 
it isn’t often that I do. I am on pretty good terms with 
my neighbors.” 

“Oh, are you?” asked another beetle in a teasing way. 
“How about that fight that you had only yesterday 
with Brother Bill? You didn’t seem to be on good 
terms with any one or anything just about that time.” 

“Now, Mrs. Stag, that was a very unkind remark to 
make. You ought to be ashamed of yourself to show me 
up in such a way, particularly when it was all your fault. 
Weren’t you looking about for new summer quarters, and 


IN MEADOWLAND 


137 

just as you had found a fine place for our bungalow, didn’t 
your selfish brother claim it for his own?” 

“Come now, don’t argue about a little thing like that,” 
interrupted a beetle whom Peter couldn’t see without 
twisting about and he was afraid that he would tear his 
coat if he did. He was really most uncomfortable and 
he was just about to mention the fact when the same voice 
went on: 

“It seems to me that it would be more to the point 
if you unhooked that poor boy from your horns, Stag. 
He certainly can’t be enjoying himself.” 

“Of course he isn’t and no more am I,” said Stag 
quickly. “But if you only knew it I have been trying to 
work my knob loose all the while we have been talking, 
but I can’t. I need assistance. Come on, some of you, 
and help us both out of this ridiculous position.” 

“Yes, do please,” begged the boy. “I feel exactly like 
a mouse in a trap, and besides I am getting a cramp in my 
arm. I hope you will not be angry at me, Mr. Stag, for 
getting into such a mess.” 

“It was no more your fault than it was mine,” declared 
Stag. “But that isn’t the question. For goodness sake, 
can’t you wiggle around a bit? I’ve done all I can!” 


LIX 

GRASS-GREEN FREES THE CAPTIVE 

“So have I,” replied the boy, who felt embarrassed at 
having all the beetles see him in such an absurd fix, and he 
didn’t feel any better about it when he heard the fel- 
lows laughing and whispering among themselves. “In- 
stead of helping myself any I caught my coat in an- 
other place when I gave that last twist. The best thing 
for me to do is to keep quiet until some one comes to our 
aid.” 

All this while Lady Bird had been flying distractedly 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


138 

about over their heads, crying, “Oh dear me, oh dear 
me! How stupid I was not to warn the Boy! Now 
whatever shall we do?” 

Just at this moment a sharp voice said: 

“If this isn’t a fine thing to happen! Stag, I do wish 
that you could remember to turn your horns in. I nearly 
got stuck on them myself the other day. Here I have 
been waiting about for ages, and the minute I step off for 
a drink you go and get yourself into trouble. And be- 
sides all this is holding up the hunt*.” 

“Well, I can’t help it, Rose,” snapped Stag. “And 
if you really want to be of use do something, and stop 
your scolding. Besides, how many times have I told 
you that I have no horns? These are my jaws, if you 
please.” 

“What’s the difference,” ventured Peter, “when they 
look the same and act the same. I certainly thought that 
they were horns.” 

“I suppose you did. Any one foolish enough to get 
caught in them would think that they were almost any- 
thing. But I must say ” 

“What’s all this?” drawled a lazy voice, interrupting 
Stag. “I always knew those terrible jaws of yours would 
do damage one of these days.” 

“Well, I must confess that they have,” replied Stag. 
“But I am mighty glad to see you, Grass-green, for per- 
haps now something can be done. The rest of this 
crowd are having a fine time laughing at us, but I be- 
lieve you have better sense.” 

“Thanks, old chap, for the compliment. It doesn’t 
look like a very difficult thing to do. Let’s have a bite 
at you with my teeth, Boy.” 

Peter was not at all sure that he cared to be loosened 
in such a manner. 

“Isn’t there another way out?” he asked anxiously. “I 
had much rather that you didn’t bite me if you didn’t 
have to.” 

“Not you, your coat, silly,” laughed the newcomer, 
and now Peter caught his first glimpse of the beetle, as 


IN MEADOWLAND 139 

green as grass, that was crawling towards him. “Don’t 
worry, I won’t hurt you a bit.” 

He was as good as his word, and in the twinkling of 
an eye he had nibbled through the threads of the coat 
that held Peter in his uncomfortable quarters and the boy 



found himself free to move. And he backed away from 
Stag’s jaws gingerly for fear that he would again be 
caught. 

“How can I ever thank you, Grass-green?” said he. 
“I was certainly never more grateful in my life.” 

“Nonsense, I did nothing at all,” laughed his rescuer. 
“But if you feel that way about it, let’s swear eternal 
friendship. Here is my claw upon it.” And stretching 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


140 

out a thick claw-like front leg he shook hands with the 
boy, and then, much to the latter’s astonishment, Stag in- 
sisted upon doing the same thing. 

“You are a good sport, Boy,” said he, “and I like you 
for it.” 

“So do we all of us,” chorused the beetles, and there- 
upon every single one of them crawled forward and in- 
sisted upon solemnly giving to Peter the claw of good 
fellowship. 

Lady-bird was delighted that her guest was becoming 
such a favorite and she showed her joy by buzzing about 
him in a manner that fairly made him dizzy. 

“You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?” she whispered 
in his ear. “I should never forgive myself if you had. 
But if you are none the worse for it, it is the best thing 
that could have happened to you. You have won the 
liking of all my family, and who knows ! Perhaps you 
may be invited to join the Order of the Sacred Beetle !” 


LX 

BURIED ALIVE! 

“What under the sun is the Order of the Sacred 
Beetle?” asked the boy. “It sounds very exciting. What 
do I have to do to belong? And how could I join it if 
I am not a beetle?” 

“Ssh, don’t talk so loudly. I don’t want them to know 
I mentioned it to you, for it is a secret organization, 
you know, and only its members are supposed to know 
anything about it. I can’t tell you much about it, for 
that would be unfair to them, but perhaps one day you 
will find out for yourself. But I will say this ” 

Just what Lady Bird had been about to say, Peter 
never knew, for at this moment, a shrill voice screamed: 

“Rose, Rose, come here! I have fallen into the tree 
and I can’t get out. Oh, oh, I shall be buried alive!” 


IN MEADOWLAND 


141 

Rose and Stag had been talking earnestly together and 
they had just that moment announced that the hunt was 
to begin, but now Rose dashed madly through the crowd 
and upset two or three of the smallest beetles in his 
hurry, and then he fell headlong over a great stone that 
stood in his path. 

Fainter and fainter grew the cries for help, and by 
the time Rose had picked himself up they had ceased 
altogether. But Rose knew exactly whence they had 
come, and without a moment’s hesitation straight he went 
to an old tree that grew a short distance away from the 
rose bush, and after him crawled all the others in great 
excitement. 

“I am afraid that he can’t get her out in time,” 
mourned Lady Bird, but Grass-green drawled: 

“Don’t talk like that. It won’t help things a bit. 
Of course he can if we all help him dig. Only for 
goodness sakes, don’t let us get in each other’s way.” 

“It all depends upon how deep she has fallen,” said 
another, and Stag added: 

“Yes, and upon how much wood has dropped on top 
of her.” 

The boy was completely at a loss as to what had hap-, 
pened and he tried to find out, but the beetles were too in- 
terested to answer him and, fast as he could walk, he 
could not keep up with them. 

Stag was the only one who noticed that he was lagging 
behind, and he waited for him to come up. 

“I do wish that you would tell me what the matter 
is,” panted Peter, quite out of breath. “Every one but 
myself seems to know. Is it anything terrible?” 

“There isn’t time to go into any explanations now,” 
replied Stag. “Rose Beetle’s wife has fallen into the tree 
and the bark has buried her there and unless we can dig 
her out she will die. Come on, they may need us. Here, 
take hold of my shell cover, and I will pull you along, 
or, better still, jump on my back. We have not far to 
go and that’s the best way.” 

Peter did as he was told, and when they reached the 


i 4 2 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

tree they found all the beetles frantically digging into 
the roots of the tree with their claws and jaws. 

Rose Beetle, himself, was almost distracted, and he 
kept calling: 

“Have courage, my dear, we are coming as quickly as 
we can,” Tut he received no answer. 

Stag Beetle lost no time in setting to work and push- 



N\ 

“jump on MY BACK, WE" HAVE NOT FAPTOGO 


ing the others out of the way he dug up the earth with 
his huge jaws and scattered the dirt and bark around in 
clouds. Peter had to step aside or he would have been 
buried under the flying dirt, himself. 

At last Stag gave a cry, “Hurrah, Rose, there she is. 
We will have her out now in no time,” and sure enough 
he was right. The buried beetle was alive, for just then 
a faint whisper came from the depths of the hole that 
he was digging. 


IN MEADOWLAND 


H3 


LXI 

MRS. ROSE BEETLE ESCAPES 

“Look out for the eggs. I have laid them right be- 
neath that largest root.” 

Rose gave a whoop of joy and almost upset Stag in his 
efforts to catch a glimpse of his wife. 

“Bother the eggs, my dear! If you are alive and well 
you can lay some more. Are you hurt?” 

“Not a bit,” came back the answer and this time it 
could be heard quite clearly. “But I am nearly smoth- 
ered. I shall be glad to feel the sun again. I can see 
some one’s feelers now, and yes, I do believe they belong 
to good old Stag Beetle. Where are you, husband?” 

“Right here,” said he, “and all ready to help you 
out, for there goes the last piece of bark. Hurry now 
and pull yourself up by my claw before anything else falls 
upon you.” He bent over and pulled with all his might 
and at last over the top of the hole appeared the head 
of another beetle like himself. 

“Allow me,” said Grass-green, stepping forward and 
extending his claw to her, and between the two of them 
they managed to haul Mrs. Rose over the top, where 
she sank to the ground exhausted. 

Rose bent anxiously over her. 

“Whatever made you go into that rotten old tree 
trunk?” he asked. “I told you the other day that it 
was liable to cave in any moment. I thought that you 
were going to lay your eggs in that ant’s nest we dis- 
covered the other day. They said that they would be 
glad to store them for us, if you remember.” 

“So I did intend to,” said his wife, when she had gotten 
her breath, “but I did hate to have our babies born 
among such surroundings. Ants are all very well in their 
way, of course, and I am really very fond of them, but 
I do not believe that it is at all sanitary to live in such 
crowded quarters, and you know how many ants always 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


144 

rent those hills. And it seemed so refined and select down 
there under that big root. I never thought that the tree 
was as rotten as you said. You are always fussing over 
me, you know.” 

Mr. Rose Beetle put his claws around her. “Well, my 
dear wife, we will not fuss over anything now,” said 
he. “I am glad enough to have you safe and sound, and 
our babies will stay there for two or three years quite 
undisturbed, so after all everything has turned out all 
right.” 

Stag Beetle sat on a stone and mopped his face with 
his feelers. 

“Lucky for you, Mrs. Rose, that we hadn’t started off,” 
said he. “Rose and I were going on a hunt this morn- 
ing, but this chap spoiled the fun in the first place and 
then you upset things all over again. But ‘all’s well 
that ends well,’ and it is a mighty good thing that the 
Boy did hang himself on my jaws.” 

“It is not very late in the day, yet,” remarked Grass- 
green. “We can still enjoy the sport if you are not too 
tired, Stag. Get your breath and when you and Rose 
are ready we will take our places at the foot of the red 
rose bush and try again.” 

“That suits me,” said Stag. “How about you, Rose?” 

“Oh, I am all right, only I want to see that my wife 
gets home safely, so if you don’t mind we will start 
on ahead, and you can follow when you want to.” The 
devoted husband helped his wife to her feet and, claw 
in claw, off they crawled towards their home in the rose 
bush. 

The sun shone on their coats of bright golden green 
and silver and made them look like two brilliant jewels. 
Peter had had no idea that they were so beautiful and 
he watched them until they were out of sight, and even 
the beetles themselves looked at them more carefully 
than usual. 

“They certainly are a fine looking couple, and one to 
be proud of,” remarked Mr. Stag. 

“Yes, they are,” agreed Grass-green, who was evi- 


IN MEADOWLAND 


145 

dently just a bit vain. “But that is one thing that can 
be said of the Beetle family. 7 hey all know how to dress 
and to keep up appearances,” and he glanced around 
at his own sleek green suit with a satisfied smile. 


LXII 

THE BEETLE BAND 

“Do you know,” remarked Peter suddenly, “you 
Beetles would make fine soldiers!” He had been study- 
ing Mr. Stag very closely. 

“Why do you say that?” asked Grass-green as he 
snapped lazily at a fly who was buzzing about his head. 

“Because nothing could hurt you. Your coats are so 
thick, just like coats of mail.” 

“What are coats of mail?” demanded Stag, who 
looked as though he was going to sleep but who was really 
very wide awake. 

“Why, armor,” explained the boy. “In days of old 
men used to ride to war and fight each other and they 
protected their bodies with a coat and helmet of steel so 
the arrows and spears couldn’t touch them.” 

“We don’t know what half those words mean,” said 
Grass-green, “but we take it that Humans took care of 
themselves when they fought a long time ago. Don’t 
they do that now, or don’t they ever fight?” 

“Yes they do, but not in the same way,” answered the 
boy. “Our soldiers don’t wear such heavy suits any more.” 

“More .fools, they, 'then,” declared Stag abruptly. 
“Why, if it wasn’t for our suits of mail, as you call them, 
we wouldn’t be half as safe as we are now. We meet lots 
of enemies, you know, and peaceful as we are, they would 
like to do us harm if they thought that they could. But 
we are too tough to eat and too well protected for them 
to injure and so they let us alone.” 

“Yes,” piped up Lady-bird suddenly. “And if it was 
not for our hard coats we would hurt ourselves on the 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


146 

sharp stones and sticks we run into when we are digging 
under the stones and in the earth.” 

“I think that you are about the nicest family I ever 
met,” said Peter. “You all seem to be so good-natured 
and the funny part of it is some of you look so fierce. 
Why, when I first saw Stag I thought that he was cer- 
tainly going to eat me alive.” 

“Haw-haw,” laughed that gentleman. “I almost did, 
you know, for I really thought that you were some strange 
insect that had come where you had no business to be. 
But Lady Bird soon set me right. We beetles can fight, 
though, when we are angry, and if you once see us angry 
you wfll never again think that we are good-natured folks. 
But then we generally don’t get angry unless we have 
good reason to.” 

“Z-z-z-z-z-” 

Peter couldn’t imagine what the noise was, but none of 
the beetles seemed in the least disturbed, in fact they 
seemed to enjoy the strange music which kept getting 
louder and louder. 

“The beetle band is coming,” announced Lady Bird 
who had settled herself at Peter’s side. “They were to 
join us in the hunt, but they must have gotten tired of 
waiting and so they are coming to meet us. Don’t they 
play well?” 

Peter murmured a very polite “yes,” but as a matter 
of fact he didn’t think much of the shrill hum. But he 
might as well have said no. Lady-bird didn’t hear him. 
She was gazing at the band which was just crawling into 
view. The beetles looked as if they were going through 
some sort of gymnastics, so furiously were they moving 
their wings and jaws, but as they drew nearer the boy saw 
that they were playing somewhat after the fashion of the 
grasshoppers, by rubbing their wing-cases against each 
other, and knocking together the knobs upon their jaws. 

At this moment Mr. Rose appeared around the corner 
of the rose bush, and waved his feelers to the group under 
the tree. Mr. Stag got slowly up. 

“I don’t believe that there is any reason for our delay- 


IN MEADOWLAND 


H7 

ing the hunt any longer,” said he. “What aoout it, folks, 
are you ready? The musicians have come to meet us, 
and there stands Cousin Rose waiting for us, so let’s 
start.” 

He linked his claw in Peter’s arm, and followed by the 
others they started towards the red rose bush, escorted 
by the beetle band. 


LXIII 

OFF TO THE HUNT 

The band did its level best to play a merry tune, but so 
queer and jerky was the music that Peter found it very 
hard to march to it, and besides he continually kept get- 
ting out of step with Stag and treading on first one and 
then another of the three feet that were on the side near- 
est him. At last he could stand it no longer. 

“Do let me walk by myself, Stag,” said he, gently un- 
linking his arm from the insect’s claw. “I am making a 
perfect nuisance of myself and treading all over you. 
I have only two feet, you know, and they simply will not 
keep step with your six and I may as well leave you now 
before I do any serious damage to your poor legs.” 

“Oh, that’s all right,” declared Stag. “You haven’t 
hurt me a bit. But I suppose it is hard for you. I had 
forgotten that you had so few feet, — I really cannot 
understand how you can manage to get about. I have 
noticed that you were not marching very steadily and I 
wondered what was the matter. Don’t you like the music? 
I think it is perfect and as long as you have spoken about 
it perhaps it would be just as well for you to march by 
yourself. Then I will not be so apt to fall out of step. 
We haven’t much farther to go anyhow, but I want to 
make the best of the distance there is left. There, isn’t 
that an inspiring air that they are playing now?” 

It might have been to beetle ears, but to the boy it 
sounded decidedly tuneless and timeless and he strolled 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


148 

on at the pace that suited him and had a lot of fun watch- 
ing Stag and the rest of the beetles solemnly marking time 
with their feelers as they marched forward to the starting 
place. 

At last they reached the rose bush and there the pro- 
cession came to a halt. It seemed to Peter that all the 
Mrs. Beetles in the neighborhoo<4 must have heard of 
Mrs. Rose’s accident, for there were any number of the 
ladies gathered about under the rose bush listening to 
her. It was quite evident that they had stopped their 
morning’s work the moment they heard of it and had 
rushed over to learn the particulars, for several of them 
had on aprons and dust caps, and one of them had been 
in such a hurry that she had carried off a broom and 
another held a tiny mop over her shoulder like a gun. 
Mrs. Rose herself had gotten over her fright and was 
busy wiping off the dusty petals of the rose and she never 
stopped, but bustled about doing her morning tasks all 
the while that she told the story of her escape in a very 
loud voice to her curious neighbors. 

The boy would have liked to watch them, but sud- 
denly he caught sight of a small beetle spinning around 
on his head in the middle of the garden path. He called 
to Lady Bird who quickly ran over to him. 

“What under the sun is that chap doing?” asked he. 
“Is he playing a game or making believe he is a top or 
what?” Lady Bird laughed. 

“He does look queer, doesn’t he? And I should think 
he would be dizzy, but he is only running around and 
around as fast as he can go and digging a circle, from the 
center of which Stag and Rose are to start, for if there 
are no further interruptions the hunt is going to begin. 
Grass-green is 'the starter and he is going to follow them 
closely and see who wins, too.” 

“You haven’t yet told me what they are going hunting 
for,” remarked Peter, and Lady Bird was about to an- 
swer him when Grass-green stepped into the circle and 
blew a shrill blast on a little horn. 


IN MEADOWLAND 


149 


LXIV 

LEFT BEHIND 

Stag and Rose took up their places, one on eitner side 
of him, and all the beetles gathered about them. Peter, 
with Lady Bird beside him, got as near to the circle as he 
could. 

“The hunt is on. Hola ! the hunt!” called Grass-green 
in a loud voice, and all the beetles echoed “Hurrah, hur- 
rah, the hunt is on!” At a signal from Grass-green the 
band commenced to play again, and by twos and threes 
the beetles grouped themselves in line behind the three 
large beetles in the center. Peter was just about to ask 
Lady Bird the reason, when suddenly Grass-green blew 
his horn again and out of the circle and down the path 
hurried Stag and Rose, with Grass-green beside them and 
after them followed the others. 

Peter was anxious to see the fun, and he ran as fast as 
he could to catch up with the hunters, but the other beetles 
got in his way, and one fellow bumped into him with such 
force that he fell down on his nose in the gravel. When 
he picked himself up he saw that the beetles were far 
ahead and he was too tired to hurry after them. 

The beetle who had tripped him up had never stopped 
to see if he was hurt, and even Lady Bird had forgotten 
all about him in the excitement of the chase. 

“Impolite little thing,” he muttered to himself. “She 
might at least have stayed with me since she invited me 
to this old hunt. And as for that chap that bumped into 
me, just wait until I catch him. I’ll settle with him, just 
see if I don’t! But then I suppose he didn’t mean to run 
into me any more than I did into old Stag, and I dare say 
I’d have run away from his claws if I could have. But at 
any rate I hope they won’t find anything on their chase. 
I wish I had made Lady Bird tell me what they were try- 
ing to find.” 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


150 

The gravel of the path had scratched the boy’s face 
and it began to smart. 

“Well,” said he to himself. “I may as well go down to 
the brook and bathe my face. There is no sense waiting 
here. They will not be back for some time, and besides 
they might laugh at me if they saw me now. I will get 
back before they do.” 

The brook was away at the other end of the garden, 
and the boy was so tiny that it took him some time to 
reach it, but he was glad he had come when he felt the 
cool water on his hot face. He decided to rest there for 
a while in the shade of a clump of ferns and he spied a 
stone on the edge of the brook that he thought would 
make a splendid seat. 

It was damp where the stone was and it stuck to the 
earth a little when he tried to lift it up. He tugged at 
it with all his might and at last he dragged it out of its 
place, but he dropped it in a hurry. There in the damp 
spot under the stone was gathered a group of small crea- 
tures and every one of them was shooting straight at 
him. 

As the reports of the guns went off the boy expected to 
be hit with a bullet, and he dodged, but just as he was 
about to run to safety, he was surrounded by a thick 
bluish smoke that blinded him so he couldn’t see where he 
was going. In his fright he must have turned right about 
and run in exactly the direction that he didn’t intend to, 
for to his horror he heard a confused cry: 

“There he comes, — shoot him, — blind him, — quick! 
We are lost! He is heading straight for our home.” 

Before he could stop himself he had tripped over some- 
thing that threw him head foremost into the midst of his 
attackers, and the last thing that he remembered was 
throwing out his hands to protect himself and feeling 
something hard and smooth that moved and screamed as 
he touched it. 

“He is crushing me, father! Help! Help! The crea- 
ture has dropped rigjit on top of me.” 


IN ME ADO WLAN D 



LXV 

9 

MISTAKEN FOR THE ENEMY 

Sharp little claws scratched and tore at his coat and 
pulled at his hair until he almost screamed with the pain. 
He tried to beat the creatures off, but he was wedged so 
tightly in the hole that he couldn’t move and they bit at 
him sharply whenever he stirred. At last he shook off 
the fellow that was seated on his chest and managed to 
recover enough of his lost breath to gasp: 

“If you would only leave me alone for a moment I 
would try to get up myself. You are only making me 
mash whoever is under me all the harder, without stir- 
ring me a bit. For pity’s sake give me a little air!” 

So astonished were his unknown companions that they 
left off attacking him, and the fellow who had been 
clutching his hair was so startled that he fell over back- 
ward, and Peter caught a glimpse of him lying flat on his 
back kicking his legs madly in the air in an effort to get 
up. 

“Why, he speaks our language!” exclaimed one of 
them. “Wlho on earth is he? He doesn’t look nor feel 
like any one whom we have ever seen before.” 

“Well, why didn’t you wait and find out who I was be- 
fore you jumped on me?” asked Peter angrily. “Of 
course I speak your language, and I had no idea of doing 
you any harm. I was going about my own business and I 
ran upon your home by mistake. You can be very sure of 
one thing: I want to get out of here just as quickly as 
you can possibly wish me to. You are not such pleasant 
company, you know, that one would want to stay with 
you for very long.” 

For a moment the creatures were too startled to an- 
swer and then one said, in rather a meek voice, — 

“Of course, we thought that you were an enemy. How 
were we to know that you weren’t, when you fell in upon 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


152 

us as you did? But if you meant us no harm, we are very 
sorry if we have hurt you. Perhaps ” 

“Perhaps nothing,” shrilled a cross voice. “Do you 
realize that I am nearly crushed to death under this great 
creature. What does it matter why he came or who he 
is, as long as he is here and on top of me? I can hardly 
get a breath; and there you all stand arguing about the 
matter, when you ought to be helping me to crawl from 
under him.” 

This wild appeal stirred the fellows to action and 
again they began to tug at the boy, but this time they did 
not scratch him. Peter did his best to aid them by try- 
ing to wriggle himself loose, but the silly things crowded 
upon him so that he couldn’t make much headway, and 
he evidently hurt the fellow underneath him more than 
ever, for he started to scold again. 

“I did think, father, that you knew how to manage 
things,” he cried, “but you are giving just the wrong 
orders. I am beginning to believe that the stranger is 
right and that you are only hindering him from getting 
out. Suppose you all try going outdoors for a moment 
and give him a chance to take himself off.” 

“And you’ll see how quickly I’ll do it, too, if you will 
only give me standing room,” said the boy, and at last 
between them, he and the poor chap under him made the 
stupid crowd believe that this plan was the only possible 
way out of the difficulty, and reluctantly the others 
climbed out of the hole and left the two to their own 
devices. 

The space was so narrow and Peter was so shaken by 
his fall and so bruised by the mauling that he had re- 
ceived that it was hard for him to move. But as he felt 
about the smooth walls his hand came in contact with 
something sharp and solid and in a second he knew it 
for the end of a pointed stone. 

“Good,” exclaimed he. “At last I have found some- 
thing to hold on to. Now I will pull myself off of you in 
a hurry, old chap. I am awfully sorry that I have had 
to make you uncomfortable for so long.” 


IN MEADOWLAND 


153 

“Take care,” cautioned his companion in misery. “I 
certainly want to lose your weight, but if you pulled our 
old house down on top of us it would be worse. Then 
we would neither of us ever get out, I am afraid.” 


LXVI 

PETER PULLS THE HOUSE DOWN 

Peter was just about to haul himself up, but he hesi- 
tated at the creature’s remark. 

“You had better tell me what you mean,” said he. “I 
am sure I can’t imagine how I could possibly pull your 
old house down upon us. In the first place, I don’t see 
any house besides this one, — though if you ask me, I 
think that this is more like a hole than a home, — and if 
this is the kind of place that you are accustomed to living 
in, how could one pull a ‘hole’ down? Besides, how did 
you know what I had found?” 

“Don’t you suppose that I know what’s in this room?” 
asked his companion. “Of course I do, — every stick and 
stone, and what you discovered was a sharp pointed rock, 
now wasn’t it?” 

Peter admitted that it was. 

“Of course, I knew it. It couldn’t be anything else be- 
cause there isn’t anything else to be. And that sharp 
stone is the roof of our old house, next door. We have 
only moved in here, you know, because several of our 
family have married and left us recently and the other 
place was too large — we had so much space that we could 
not keep warm at night, — the wind blew right between 
our bodies. But we haven’t had time to pack that stone 
tightly with earth so that it can’t fall and as we dug this 
home right beneath it, it is likely to give way if there is 
any strain upon it. Can’t you get up without pulling on 
that?” 

“I am afraid that I can’t,” said the boy. “But. I will 
be very careful not to put more of my weight on it than 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


154 

I have to. But this is really a ridiculous position to be in. 
You can’t move until I do, and I can’t stir unless I find 
something to hang on to. My head is wedged against 
one side of the hole and my feet against the other. A 
pretty sight I shall be when I get out of this mess! But 
that can’t be helped now. The thing for me to do is to 
get out. Here goes!” 

With a desperate effort he hauled himself to his knees 
and then to his horror he felt the stone giving way, and 
he called: 

“Look out there, the stone is coming out. Save your- 
self if you can. I will hold it up as long as I am able.” 

His warning was just in time. The fellow crawled 
out nimbly from beneath him and climbed up the side of 
the hole and out into safety but the boy was helpless to 
save himself and just as the last leg of his former .com- 
panion disappeared over the edge of his house, Peter felt 
his strength ebbing. The stone slipped from his grasp 
and suddenly he felt that the whole earth was opening to 
swallow him up, for down the dirt poured upon him, into 
his eyes, his mouth and ears, and then for a time he knew 
no more. 

When he came to himself the same little claws, but 
sharp no longer, were softly patting his face and he felt 
drops of cold water slowly trickling down his nose. He 
opened his eyes and the first thing he saw was Lady Bird, 
who was anxiously bending over him and sponging his 
head with a wet leaf. 

He smiled up at her and said in a faint voice : 

“Hello there! However did you get here and what 
happened to me anyhow? I have a queer remembrance 
of being buried alive. Whew, how my head aches! 
Where am I anyway?” 

Lady Bird clapped her claws when she heard him 
speak. 

“My, how glad I am that you are all right,” cried she. 
“I should never have forgiven myself if anything had 
happened to you. I missed you on the hunt and I flew 
back to look for you and I was almost worried to death, 


IN MEADOWLAND 155 

for I found your cap on the gravel path but not a sign of 
you. At last I came down towards the brook and I knew 
the moment I saw them acting so queerly that something 
must have occurred in the Gun Beetle family.” 


LX VI I 

THE GUN BEETLE TRIBE 

Lady Bird was so excited that she had to stop talking 
for a minute; but another voice took up the story. 

“Well, it is no wonder that we were acting queerly for 
we were almost crazy, you know. And father kept order- 
ing us to dig deeper and Biffer nearly drove us frantic by 
crying to us to hurry and he kept getting into our way 
and hindered more than he helped us. It was a wonder 
that we succeeded as well as we did.” 

“I don’t care what you say,” shrilled another voice 
close to Peter’s ear. “You can tease me about it as much 
as you like, but if some one had saved your life and got- 
ten himself buried because of it, you would be anxious to 
save him too. And you did seem to be going so slowly!” 

“Of course we would, Biffer. We are only fooling,” 
said the fourth and the others laughed and cried, “You 
are all right, Biffer. Don’t mind what we say. But he 
is even a better sport than you are.” 

The boy was becoming much confused, and now he 
tapped Lady Bird upon her smooth back to attract her 
attention, for she was laughing merrily with the rest. 

“Do tell me what they are talking about, will you?” 
pleaded he. “Why, I don’t even know who these people 
are.” 

“You don’t!” exclaimed the lady. “Well, of all things! 
It is certainly high time that you did. Boy, these are my 
cousins, the Gun Beetles, and cousins, this is my friend, 
Boy. Here you have been having all sorts of experiences 
together and don’t even know each other’s names.” 


1 56 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

Biff er crawled up to Peter and insisted upon shaking 
his hand very heartily. 

“I have heard a lot about boys,” said he, “but you are 
the first one I have ever met, and I like you first rate. 
You saved my life, you know, even if you did nearly 
mash me into a pulp.” 



RIGHT OFF OU^ HOUSE M 

“Oh, are you the fellow that I fell upon?” asked the 
boy with much interest, raising himself on one elbow the 
better to look at his new friend. “I am so sorry about 
that. I never meant to do it, you know.” 

“How did it happen?” asked Differ. “I for one am 
anxious to know. I was mighty angry at you at first and 
all of us thought that you were an enemy, and that is why 
we attacked you.” 


IN MEADOWLAND 


157 

“Yes,” interrupted another beetle who, Peter felt sure, 
was “father,” — he looked so old and wise. “That is why 
we scratched and bit you. In Insect-land we can’t wait 
to find out ‘why’ very often. If we did we should lose 
our lives. For our rule here is ‘kill before you’re killed.’ 
I dare say we did seem cruel, but you must admit that 
your coming was very sudden. Why, in fact you tried to 
pull the roof right off our house, now didn’t you?” 

Peter thought for a moment and then he burst out 
laughing. 

“Why, I don’t blame you one bit for being frightened 
and angry,” said he. “That is exactly what I did, but 
do you know what I did it for? To begin with, of course 
I didn’t have the least idea that it was the roof of your 
house or anybody’s house and I was trying to pull it out 
of the ground so that I could use it for a seat. I was 
hot and tired and I had just scratched my face by falling 
on the gravel and I wanted to rest under a fern by the 
brook. I remember it all perfectly now.” 

“And when we saw the top of our house flying off and 
saw you above us, of course we shot at you,” cried Biffer 
excitedly. 


LXVIII 

WHAT HAPPENED UNDER THE STONE 

“And blinded me so with smoke that I simply couldn’t 
see where I was going and so, instead of running away 
from you as I intended to, I ran right straight towards 
you and fell head foremost into your home,” continued 
the boy. 

“Then you fell right on top of me,” interrupted Biffer. 
“My, but I thought that my end had come. But now 
that I think about it all you beetles did act too foolish 
for anything. You might have known that when you all 
piled on top of the boy it would prevent him from getting 
up, and only mash me the more. Ha, ha ! It makes me 
laugh, now that it is all over.” 


158 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

“It does us good to hear you laugh, Biffer,” said his 
father. ‘‘There was a time when we feared we should 
never see you at your pranks again. You have our heart- 
iest thanks and our undying friendship for having saved 
the youngest son of the Gun Beetle tribe, my dear Boy. 

Peter was so amazed at this last remark that he forgot 
all about his headache and sat bolt upright and looked 
about him. Father Beetle, seeing him so far recovered, 
crawled over and standing up on his back legs solemnly 
offered him his claw, which Peter heartily shook. Then 
one by one all the other beetles followed suit and gave 
the right claw of good fellowship to the boy. 

Lady Bird was so pleased at her friend’s good fortune 
that she did a beetle dance in front of him, and when she 
had finished her cousins clapped loudly, and begged for 
another figure, but she laughed and seated herself by 
Peter. 

“Not just this minute,” said she. “I want to hear more 
about my Boy’s adventures after I left him. What hap- 
pened’after you fell on top of Biffer, Boy?” 

“Didn’t I just tell you?” demanded Biffer, who could 
not keep still for long. “They all attacked him and 
goodness knows what would have become of him if he 
had not spoken, and Biter here was so scared when he 
heard his voice that he fell over backwards. Father had 
to set him on his feet. I saw it all, and if I had had the 
breath I should have screamed with laughter.” 

“Well,” said Peter, taking up the tale, “it may have 
looked Funny, but it didn’t feel funny. I felt exactly as if 
I had been caught in a mouse-trop. But what I want to 
know is how I came to be here. The last thing that 1 
knew, the earth fell upon me.” 

“That is exactly what I told you it would do,” cried 
Biffer. “You pulled too hard on that stone and loosened 
it and our old house caved in just as I felt sure that it 
would. But you held the stone as long as you could and 
told me to run, and I did run and didn’t get hurt a bit. 
But just as I went ‘over the top’ you went under. I 
thought you were going to get out too, or I never would 


IN MEADOWLAND 


159 

have left you, for I am no coward even if I am a beetle !” 
With the last words the little fellow drew himself up 
proudly. 

“Of course you are not, don’t I know that?” said Peter. 
“And then what happened?” 

“Why, I called for help of course, and we all started 
to dig you out just as quickly as we could.” 

“It was rather hard work,” remarked the father 
slowly, “especially when it came to dragging you out, for 
you are no light weight, I can tell you. But we hooked 
our jaws in your soft coat and all pulled at once, and here 
you are.” 

“It was certainly very kind of you to unbury me,” said 
Peter, “and I almost wonder that you did it, when I had 
caused you so much trouble. I can never thank you 
enough for saving my life.” 

LXIX 

THE WARNING 

“It is all my fault,” exclaimed Lady Bird, before the 
beetles could say a word. “I ought never to have left 
you, and the moment I discovered that we had outdis- 
tanced you back I flew; but, as I said before, there was no 
sign of you but the cap on the gravel path. It was just 
by chance that I flew this way. I was so warm and thirsty 
and excited when I couldn’t find you that I felt I must 
have a drink and I was coming down to the brook to get 
one when I saw the Gun Beetles digging with might and 
main and as I knew they had moved only the day before, 
I wondered what could be the reason for their working 
so hard. I was sure they never did unless they had to.” 

“The idea ! What a mean thing to say,” chorused 
her cousins; but evidently they didn’t mind much, for 
they laughed over Lady Bird’s remark. 

“When I went over to see what they were doing, whom 
should I find but you. They had just uncovered your 


160 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

head ana were working madly to get the rest of you out. 
How you ever got into such a scrape I hadn’t the least 
idea until you told me. And I was so anxious for you to 
see the hunt, too. It’s a perfect shame. I shall never 
be so careless again.” 

“It is quite all right, my dear lady,” said the boy. “I 
can’t run as fast as you can fly, that’s what the trouble 
was. And I never should have tried to go with you on 
the hunt. I ought to have known better. Though of 
course I am sorry that I missed the fun.” 

Peter had been aware that the beetles had seemed un- 
easy for some minutes. They had been looking at each 
other in a very strange way, he thought, and at his last 
remark the irrepressible Differ burst out: 

“What is all this about some hunt? Were you going 
on one, and what were you going to hunt?” 

“That is the queer part about it all,” laughed the boy. 
“I really and truly don’t know. The beetles didn’t tell 
me. Lady Bird, ” 

“Did you say that the beetles were going on the hunt?” 
screamed Father, and Peter was amazed to see him so 
excited. “Well, if you don’t know what they were going 
to hunt, we do. It was us.” 

“You!” asked the boy astonished. “Nonsense! What 
do they want to hunt you for? Aren’t you their own 
relatives ?” 

“Certainly we are, but that doesn’t make a bit of differ- 
ence. Every so often they take a notion to plague us by 
getting up a hunt to chase us about. That is their idea of 
sport. They don’t hurt us of course, — they just do it to 
see us run, but we will fool them this time. You have 
warned us and we will be ready for them,” answered the 
wise old fellow, and suddenly he smiled. 

“What will we do?” asked Biffer. 

“Build a trench, my son, and stand on guard down in 
it and scare those big bully cousins of ours out of a year’s 
growth. Come on now, everybody. Get to work. They 
may be upon us any moment and I don’t want them to find 


IN MEADOWLAND 


161 


us out here in the open. There would be nothing for us 
to do but run, you know, if they did. They are so much 
larger than we are. I suppose Stag and Rose were the 
leaders, weren’t they, Lady Bird?” he asked. 

“Yes, they were,” said she. “And although I must 
confess I was anxious to see the fun, I had just as soon 
see it from this side. I imagine that the sport will be even 
greater, especially if you surprise them underground. 
Can Boy and I help you any?” 


LXX 

TRENCH WARFARE 

“Now I call that real kind of you, Lady Bird,” an- 
swered the old chap. “And if you will help us dig, we 
shall be much obliged. I am going to start right here,” 
and without more ado he suited his actions to the words 
and commenced to scratch up the dirt with his claws. 

The beetles spread out in a long row and each set him- 
self a certain length to dig and got to work at once. Peter 
and Lady Bird set to with a will, only the boy used a 
sharp stone instead of his hands to scoop up the earth 
with and in scarcely any time at all they had succeeded 
in hollowing out a long ditch. 

“Hurry up, now, and take your places all along the 
line,” called Father Beetle, and over they scrambled. 

“Biffer, you keep guard,” said his father, “and watch 
that they don’t come upon us unawares. Give the alarm 
when first you see them, so that we may have our guns 
and our gas ready. If we scare them, they will run, and 
we shall go after them and chase them all the way home, 
and then they will see how they like their hunt! As my 
grandfather used to say, ‘the worm will turn,’ and they 
can’t expect always to have the fun of the chase at our 
expense.” 


162 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


“You are certainly a clever chap,” remarked Peter ad- 
miringly, when he saw the beetles all lined up like regular 
soldiers, ready to fight at a command. “How did you 
ever happen to think of making this trench?” 

“Why, simply because a trench is the latest thing in 
modern warfare,” announced Father Beetle pompously. 
“You needn’t think, just because you are a Human, that 
you know so much more than anybody else. A wise old 
cock-roach that I know has just come back from traveling 
abroad and he says there is not much pleasure in touring 
now, — that the war has spoiled everything. He was very 
much disgusted at the food that he had to put up with, 
and it was he who told me all about the war and the way 
they fight and he even scratched in the sand a diagram of 
a trench; so when I heard that Rose and Stag were out 
hunting us I thought right away that we would turn the 
tables on them. Don’t ” 

He never finished his remark, for just at that moment 
Biff er called: 

“Here they come, hot-foot. Is every one ready? They 
are only about five beetle-lengths away.” 

“Fine, Son. You have done your duty. Now you take 
your place in line and when I give the word you fire with 
the rest. Blind them with a gas attack! Here they are, 
right at the edge of the trench. Ready now, fire in their 
faces, as they look over. They cannot see who is here if 
you are swift enough.” 

“Bang, bang, bang!” went all the guns at once as the 
beetles obeyed their commander and fired blank at the 
big beetles peering down into the trench, and at the same 
instant the air was filled with a thin mist or blue smoke 
that blinded the attacking beetles just as it had Peter. 

For a moment the big fellows stood stock-still, and 
then they became panic stricken at the sudden and entirely 
unexpected attack and turning about they ran from the 
haunted hole in the ground as fast as their six legs would 
carry them. 

“Hurrah, we have scared them off, just as I thought 
we would!” cried Father Beetle. “Now we will frighten 


IN MEADOWLAND 163 

them still more. Follow me, every one. “Over the top 
together 1” 

Giving the yell of the beetle clan, the merry fellows 
scrambled up the sides and over the top of the trench and 
scampered after their flying cousins, who never once 
looked back to find out who their terrible enemies could 
be, but made for their home at the foot of the rose bush 
at the top of their speed. 

' LXXI 

OVER THE TOP 

It took the boy longer to scramble up the trench walls 
than it did the Gun Beetles, and when he finally clambered 
out he was much disappointed to find the pursuers so far 
ahead of him. He ran on as fast as he could, but evi- 
dently his experience under the stone had taken a good 
deal of his strength, for he hadn’t gone very far before 
he was obliged to stop to catch his breath. 

“It is the queerest thing,” said he aloud. “When I 
was my own boy-size I used to beat all the fellows at 
school in a race, but now that I am little I can’t even 
keep up the pace that these insects set. I never had any 
idea that they could travel so fast. I may as well make 
up my mind to not being in at the finish. I simply can’t 
overtake them now, so there is no use in my trying. I’ll 
walk on slowly and Lady Bird can tell me what happened. 
She certainly is the most forgetful hostess that I have 
ever seen. This is the second time to-day that she has 
rushed off and left me. But I don’t know that I blame 
her much. I declare I’d like to see what Rose and Stag 
do when they find out who is chasing them!” 

Then he noticed that some of the distant figures that 
he had supposed to be fleeing away were growing more 
distinct and as he stared at them he was amazed to see 
that they were running towards him. 

“Can it be possible that they have given up the chase?” 


164 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

thought he. “I shall be disgusted with them if they 
have. I wanted them to give those big bully cousins of 
theirs a fine scare. Not that they have done anything to 
me, but just on general principles. These may not be the 
Gun Beetles of course but that first fellow certainly looks 
exactly like Father Gun Beetle; and yes, I am almost sure 
the first two following him are Biffer and Lady Bird, — 
she is so much smaller than the others.” 

So certain was he that the advancing party were his 
friends that he hurried forward to meet them and it was 
not long before all doubt was removed. Biffer called a 
shrill “hello!” 

In spite of the fact that they had been traveling so 
rapidly, none of the crowd seemed the least tired or 
breathless, but it was quite evident that they were still 
in a hurry, and without coming to a complete standstill 
when they reached Peter, Father and Biffer each caught 
hold of him by an arm and Biffer said: 

“Come along with us, Boy. We can’t stop here to ex- 
plain matters, but we will tell you all about it on the way. 
Father has the finest plan you ever heard of. I’ll bet that 
it will be one long while before Stag and Rose go on the 
hunt for us again. There is a big stone right in the path 
that they must travel to reach the rose bush and we are 
going to hide behind it and shoot at them as they come 
up.” 

“How on earth are we going to get there before they 
do? They are way ahead of us now and besides we are 
heading in just the opposite direction. Why don’t we go 
the other way?” asked the boy in astonishment. 

“Never you mind,” said Father and chuckled. “I 
know a short route to the rose bush although I forgot 
about it at first in the excitement. Even if Stag and Rose 
have gotten such a fine start, we shall get there first after 
all, for it is just around this turn,” and as he spoke he and 
Biffer quickened their steps and half pushed, half dragged 
Peter around a clump of thistles; and there, sure enough, 
but a few feet ahead of them, loomed up a large stone 
and directly behind it was the rose bush. 


IN MEADOWLAND 


165 


LXXII 

A CLEVER CAMOUFLAGE 

Peter recognized it immediately and he thought that 
he caught a glimpse of the white sweeping-cap of the lady 
of the house, but he was not sure. She had been busy 
cleaning when they left, he remembered. 

“Mrs. Rose is at home, I am pretty certain,” he re- 
marked. “This seems to be house-cleaning day for her. 
She had just begun to work as the race was starting. 
Aren’t you afraid that she will see you?” 

“Pshaw! I never thought of that,” said Father Gun 
Beetle in rather a worried tone. “If she does it will 
spoil everything, for she will give the alarm.” 

But Biffer was not to be daunted. He ran suddenly 
to the side of the path and biting off a leaf from the 
branch of a blackberry bush that trailed along the ground, 
he held it in his mouth and crawled towards them, and 
it was so wide that Peter couldn’t see his body at all be- 
hind the green shelter. 

“Get a shield like mine,” he said as he came up to 
them, “and Mrs. Rose, if she does spy us, will think that 
we are only leaves blowing down the path. There is 
quite a breeze this morning, you notice.” 

“Capital idea, Biffer. You are a clever fellow, even if 
you are my son,” chuckled his father. “Come on, one at 
a time, so as not to excite the suspicion of any one who 
may be glancing this way, and provide yourself with a 
leaf shield. Hurry up about it, for mercy’s sake ! There 
is no time to be lost. They will be here any moment 
now and we must reach the shelter of that stone, or the 
day is lost.” 

Father Gun Beetle suited his action to his words and 
scuttled towards the blackberry bush, and one after an- 
other, the other two beetles and Peter and Lady Bird 
followed his example. As they crawled in single file 
towards the stone, they really did look like leaves swirled 


166 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

along by the wind. The boy thought that Mrs. Rose was 
quite certain to be fooled if she happened to be watching 
them, and he said so to Lady Bird who was nearest to 
him and who hadn’t spoken to him once during the forced 
march. 



THE BOY THOUGHT MR5.ROSE WAS 
QUITE CERTAIN TO BE: FOOLHD 


“Of course she will,” agreed the latter decidedly. “But 
between you and me I think this is all a foolish pre- 
caution. Mrs. Rose never would have paid any attention 
to us anyhow. She hasn’t two thoughts for anything, out- 
side of laying her eggs and keeping her husband in a 
pleasant state of mind, — for old Rose has a temper, you 
know. I feel so foolish, carrying this thing in my mouth. 
However, we have only a step farther to go. And by 
the way, my friend, I owe you another apology, don’t I? 



IN MEADOWLAND 


167 

I was so excited that I ran off and left you again. But 
I was just coming back for you when Father Gun Beetle 
announced his new plan.” 

“I didn’t mind, really,” said the boy, “but I am awfully 
glad things turned out as they did and that you came back 
to find the short cut, for I should certainly have hated to 
miss all the fun. We had better run the rest of the way. 
Father Gun Beetle is calling us, and look — Biff er is point- 
ing down the path. Stag and Rose must be coming into 
sight. I do believe they are what causes that cloud of 
dust way ahead of us. Do you notice it?” 

“You are right, and the cloud is growing larger. They 
are coming sure enough. But here we are close upon the 
stone. Quick! Duck your head so that they can’t see 
you. You are a little bit taller than the rest of us. Hey 
there, Father, did you know that the valiant hunters are 
almost upon us? Are you ready for them?” 

“I rather think we are,” chuckled the leader of the 
band. “There may be only a few of us, but we shall take 
them so by surprise that with the help of our attacking 
party in their rear they will think that they are sur- 
rounded !” 


LXXIII 

9 

THE GAS ATTACK 

Behind the sheltering stone the Gun Beetles were 
drawn up in battle array, ready to jump in front of the 
fleeing enemy and attack them unexpectedly. 

“Now remember,” cautioned Father. “This is to be a 
gas attack, but of course you will have to use your rapid- 
fire guns. Have you turned your backs yet? Yes? Good! 
Well then, Lady Bird, you stand watch on the top of the 
stone. They are coming too fast to see you, and if they 
did they couldn’t stop in time, and just as they are even 
with the front of the stone, call ‘Here!’ I will quickly 
answer ‘Go’ and when you hear that, Are!” 

Lady Bird had taken her place as Look-out before he 


i68 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


had finished speaking and almost as he said the last word 
she shrilly screamed ‘Here,’ and immediately came the 
sharp command: 

“Go!” 

Peter had never been so excited in his life and he 
wished with all his might that he could have had a share 
in the fighting; hut there seemed nothing that he could do 
but watch, and he did that to the best of his ability. He 
had been looking at Lady Bird doing sentinel duty, but 
as the command rang out he switched his attention to the 
gunners and received the surprise of his life when in that 
second before they began firing he noticed that they had, 
all three of them, deliberately turned their backs towards 
the approaching enemy. 

The boy thought that they had quite suddenly become 
crazy and tried to warn them. 

“Hey there!” he shouted. “They’re coming. Quick, 
quick, turn around!” 

But his cry was drowned in the sharp rat-a-tat of the 
guns; and the thick bluish vapor which arose at the same 
time prevented Peter from seeing just what had hap- 
pened, but he heard a sharp cry of alarmed surprise from 
poor Stag and Rose who, by this time, must have thought 
that the world was coming to an end. 

Peter was sure that he had counted at least fifteen 
shots, when an answering volley rang out' close at hand, 
and although he couldn’t see, he was sure that the attack- 
ing party had come up in the rear, just as Father Gun 
Beetle had prophesied they would. 

“Bang — bang — ” and “crack — crack” came the shots, 
first from one squad and then from another, and although 
the boy enjoyed the commotion he began to feel rather 
sorry for the poor fellows who had changed so quickly 
from hunters into hunted. And just as he was about to 
say so to Lady Bird, a despairing cry rose above the din. 

“Plelp, help, help!” The plea rang out again and 
again. 

Evidently the *Gun Beetles were a good-natured lot 
after all, for they stopped firing almost at once and in 


IN MEADOWLAND 169 

just a few seconds the heavy smoke had cleared away 
and Peter saw Stag and Rose clinging to each other’s 
claws helplessly in the middle of the path, directly in the 
range of both attacking parties. 

bather Gun Beetle was facing them, but Biffer and his 
companion still kept their backs turned and Peter could 
contain his curiosity no longer. 

“Lady Bird, will you please tell me why those silly 
beetles keep their backs turned like that? How do they 
know that Rose and Stag will not renew the battle when 
they see them so unprepared? And how did they ever 
aim, when they couldn’t see what they were doing?” 


LXXIV 


A FLAG OF TRUCE 


Lady Bird had been balancing nerself on the very top 
of the stone and now at Peter’s words she began to laugh 
and laughed so hard that she lost her poise and over she 
tumbled, and if she had not taken to her wings she would 
have landed at his feet with a bump. As it was, she 
came sailing down as lightly as a feather, and as much 
amused as ever. 

“Tee-hee,” she giggled at last. “If our Gun Beetle 
cousins had done as you suggested Rose and Stag would 
have had things all their own way. If they had faced 
the fellows they couldn’t have shot at them at all. And 
do you know whom they would have been aiming at then? 
At you, sir! You would have been the one to cry for 
help.” And the Tittle creature went off into another gale 
of merriment. 

“Me?” questioned the astonished boy. “I don’t in the 
least understand how you make that out. I never heard 
of any one shooting with his back to the enemy before. 
It seems wrong side around to me.” 

“Oh, that is just because you did not happen to know 
that my Gun Beetle cousins keep their guns at the tips 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


170 

of their hind bodies, and I suppose you thought that they 
fired bullets, or whatever you Humans call them, too, — 
now didn’t you?” asked his friend, still chuckling to her- 
self. 

“Of course I did,” confessed the boy promptly. “And 
don”t they?” 

“I should say not. They fire out — not bullets — but a 
sticky liquid.” 

“But what makes all that smoke?” asked Peter in sur- 
prise. “Why, it is so thick that you cannot see through 
it, and it made my eyes smart, too. I thought of course 
that it must be the powder that made it do that.” 

“Nonsense, Boy. Do you think that you Humans know 
everything? And where do you think we would keep all 
these implements of warfare when we are not using 
them? We insects don’t fight all the time, you know; 
and besides, powder and bullets would probably hurt some 
one and the liquid won’t. The smoke is what the juice 
turns into w»hen it touches the air; and while it will not 
really injure any one, it will blind and confuse the enemy 
fbr a time so that Mr. Gun Beetle can run to safety. 
They fire in self-protection almost always.” 

Peter had hardly heard her last words. His attention 
had been attracted to the two chaps in the center of the 
road. They were caught in a clever trap and they knew 
it, and all the time that Lady Bird had been explaining 
things to Peter they had been consulting as to what to do 
next. It seemed as if at last they had decided, for now 
they drew apart; and Stag Beetle, looking cautiously 
about, crawled slowly to the side of the path. The Gun 
Beetles made no move. They were waiting to see what 
he would do next. 

A white clover grew beside the path and this was evi- 
dently the goal that Stag was trying to reach. It didn’t 
take him long and then, instead of resting beside it, as 
the boy half expected he would do, he caught the stalk in 
his pointed horns, pulled the blossom within his reach 
and bit through the stem with his sharp teeth. 

Then, holding it firmly in his jaws, he crawled quickly 


IN MEADOWLAND 171 

back towards his comrade. They talked a moment, with 
heads close together and then side by side, with Stag still 
bearing the white clover, they advanced towards the party 
beside the stone. 

“They have had enough, boys,” said Father, “and here 
they come with a flag of truce. Shall we make peace?” 

“I say ‘yes,’ ” declared Biffer, and Lady Bird and the 
other Gun Beetle agreed heartily with him. Peter said 
nothing. He was too much interested in watching the 
truce-bearer and his companion. 

LXXV 

THE PEACE CONFERENCE 

They came very close to Father Beetle before they said 
a word and then they spoke, recognizing him as the com- 
mander-in-chief. 

“We surrender,” was all that they said, but for their 
generous enemy it was quite enough. Father Gun Beetle 
held out his claw. 

“Fine,” said he. “We are sorry if we scared you, but 
we only did it in self-defense, you know. We were warned 
that you were on one of your hunts; and although it may 
be great sport for you and we know that you mean us no 
harm, still it is never very much fun for us. The last 
time we were chased one of my b’abies died from fright 
and another ran so fast that he forgot to look where he 
was going and fell into the brook. And my eldest boy 
broke his wing-cover on a rock. 

“You wouldn’t like all this to happen in your family, 
you know, now would you? And so we made up our 
minds then that if ever we got a chance we would make 
you know what it feels like to be driven about and not 
know where you are going until you are all tired out. 
When the opportunity came we took it. But now that we 
have shown you what it is like to be hunted instead of 
hunters, let us say no more about it. We are own cousins 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


172 

and we ought to be fast friends. ‘Wings are more useful 
than legs,’ as grandmother used, to remark, and we in- 
sects who have both ought to fly and run together. So 
let’s forget all about this morning, and start things anew.” 

‘‘We are certainly ready to do so, if you are,” said 
both Stag and Rose in one breath, and both of them 
shook claws most heartily with Father Beetle and his 
party. By this time the members of the other squad had 
decided that there would be no more fighting that day 
and they marched across the road to join their comrades, 
and one by one all the Gun Beetles ratified the treaty of 
peace with a friendly clawshake. 

“Well,” remarked Stag when this ceremony was over, 
“I must say, I never realized what we made you go 
through before. Just as you say, we never meant you any 
harm, we went hunting for fun. But I for one will never 
do it again. And I think, that you are splendid sports to 
forgive us so quickly.” 

“I do too,” commented Rose. “And it’s just as Stag 
says. I never want to go on another chase. What has 
been so much fun for us has meant pain for you. But if 
you fellows will forget it, so will we. Only I do want to 
tell you that it has taught us both a good lesson.” 

“Do let’s talk about something else,” burst out Biff er. 
“Something pleasant, — eats for instance.” 

Everybody laughed, and Lady Bird said: 

“As usual, Biffer, you say what everybody else is think- 
ing. HereT have been away from home all morning and 
who knows what may have happened at home? Why, 
the house may be on fire, and my children alone !” 

“Oh, pooh, Lady Bird,” interrupted Father Gun 
Beetle, as the nervous lady began to fuss, “you know 
perfectly well that for years you and all your sisters and 
brothers and cousins and aunts have been worrying about 
the very same thing and it has not happened yet. It 
probably never will.” 

# “Well, I am afraid I ought ” Lady Bird was be- 

ginning, when a shrill voice called, “Dinner,” and Peter 
thought he heard a faint tinkle. 


IN MEADOWLAND 


173 


Rose started. 

“My wife is calling me to dinner, friends. Don’t you 
hear her ringing the blue-bell? I am so hungry I simply 
can’t wait a moment longer. So long, I will see you 
later.” Without more ado the greedy chap started off 
towards the rose bush. 


LXXVI 

BIFFER SHOCKS HIS FAMILY 

“There goes the greediest fellow I know off,” re- 
marked Stag, looking after hisi recent companion. “We 
have been chums for a long time, in fact we were children 
together. I remember as if it had happened yesterday 
how mad we boys used to get at him for dropping out 
of our games and running home to get something to eat, 
just when we were beginning to have the most fun. And 
I recollect Ma saying that his mother almost worked her- 
self to death trying to give Rose and his father enough 
to eat. But that is his only fault, I do believe. He is 
the kindest, most generous friend a beetle ever had.” 

“Fine stuff,” said Father Gun Beetle heartily. “If 
there is one thing that I like it is to hear a chap stand up 
for his friends. And after all, being hungry isn’t such 
a terrible crime. I have quite an appetite myself, and as 
for Biffer ” and he winked slyly at his son. 

That^youngster, however, was not paying the least bit 
of attention to his father. He was talking very earnestly 
to Grass-green, who was lying flat on the ground with 
a leaf tilted over his eyes to shield them from the sun. 

Peter was sitting near them, but although he couldn’t 
quite hear what Biffer was saying he knew that Grass- 
green didn’t approve, for he shook his head several times 
and once or twice the boy heard him say, “No, no,” in a 
very decided way. Finally he caught the words, “mouse,” 
“dig,” “dinner,” and at last, unable to restrain his cu- 
riosity any longer, he leaned over towards them. Just as 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


174 

he was about to ask him what Biffer meant, Father Gun 
Beetle called out: 

“What on earth are you chattering about now, son? 
Can’t you see that you are keeping Grass-green from his 
noonday rest? He doesn’t want to be bothered with 
you. Besides, I thought that you were so hungry. Don’t 
you think that it is about time we started for home? All 
the best snails will be eaten up before we get there, if we 
don’t hurry.” 

“That is exactly what we were talking about, Father,” 
said Biffer eagerly. “I was telling Grass-green about 
something new to eat that I knew of and asking him to 
come along with me to get it, but he won’t. He says that 
he had rather dine on honey than anything that he knows 
of. I never did care much for the sweet old stuff and as 
for snails, — I am sick and tired of them and I would like 
to sample something new for a change.” 

“My dear boy, what is the matter with you? You 
have always eaten more snails than any one else in the 
family. You must be getting sick. Here, let me see if 
your head is hot.” Father Gun Beetle walked rapidly 
over to his boy’s side and anxiously put out his claw, but 
Biffer impatiently pushed it away. 

“Nonsense, Father ! Of course I am not sick. I never 
felt better in my life. You are making all this fuss over 
me when all I want is to see how mouse would taste for 
a change, instead of snail.” 

“Mouse !” shrieked his father. “The very idea ! Why, 
nobody in the Gun Beetle family ever eats mouse. The 
very thought is disgusting.” 

“I should say as much,” agreed Stag. 

“The very suggestion of such a thino- makes me shud- 
der,” said Lady Bird and she suited her actions to her 
words. 

“Well, you needn’t all be so horribly shocked about 
it,” said Biffer shortly. “It is done in one of the best 
branches of our family, and you know it. I met Cousin 
Sexton this morning and he looked so fat and happy that 
I couldn’t help asking him what he had been doing for his 


IN MEADOWLAND 


175 

health, and he told me that he and Mrs. Sexton had just 
had the most delightful breakfast and that they were go- 
ing to have dinner at the same place. They invited me to 
come too. I invited Grass-green to go with me, but he 
rudely refused. There now, you know all about it,” the 
young beetle pouted crossly. 


LXXVII 

BIFFER GETS HIS OWN WAY 

“You are a sulky little boy, Biffer,” said Father Gun 
Beetle sternly, “and I have a good mind to shake you. I 
don’t know what you mother would do if she could see 
how you are acting!” 

Biffer did have the grace to look a little ashamed of 
himself, but he muttered under his breath: 

“I think that you might be less cross about it yourself. 
If Cousin Sexton eats mouse, I don’t see how there can be 
anything so very wrong about it. I would at least like 
to be allowed to try it for myself.” 

“Very well, sir, you shall. If you can find anybody to 
go with you you may feast with Cousin Sexton on his 
favorite dish to your heart’s content. Then maybe you 
will be satisfied hereafter to dine on snails. You would 
probably do it sooner or later, so it might as well be now. 
You will only learn by experience.” Father Gun Beetle 
looked stern, but Peter saw him smile at Stag when Bif- 
fer ’s back was turned, so he knew that he was really not 
so angry after all. 

“Fine!” shouted Biffer and threw his hat into the air. 
“Now I shall have something good to eat, for a change. 
Who will go with me? I can only take one, you know, 
so don’t all speak at once.” 

“Don’t worry, my son,” remarked his father gruffly. 
“I am quite sure that they won’t.” 

They didn’t. For a moment nobody said a word. Then 
Grass-green lazily said: 


PETER S ADVENTURES 


176 

“Count me out, please,” and all the others cried, one 
after the other, “and me,” “and me,” “and me!” 

Peter had not spoken all this time, but when he saw 
how disappointed Biffer looked when not a beetle accepted 
his invitation he said suddenly: 

“I will go with you if you want me to.” The expedi- 
tion did not appeal to him much, as a matter of fact, for 
he had never been over-fond of mice and he certainly 
didn’t care to make a meal on them, but he was curious 
to know who Cousin Sexton was and besides, he had 
grown to like Biffer very much indeed, and he wanted to 
make him happy. And he succeeded. 

“Bully for you, Boy,” shouted the little chap. “You 
certainly are a good old sport, and I’ll do as much for 
you sometime. Are you ready to start now?” 

“All ready,” replied Peter promptly. “I will go with 
you, provided you promise not to lose me, for I don’t 
know my way about very well, you know.” 

He jumped up from the stalk on which he had been 
sitting and was about to link his arm in the claw which 
Biffer was holding out to him when he noticed that Father 
Gun Beetle was beckoning to him, so he told the little 
beetle that he wanted to say good-by to his father and 
went over to see what the old gentleman wanted. 

Father Gun Beetle solemnly patted him on the back, 
and said in a very low tone: 

“Thank you, my boy, for going with Biffer. You have 
proved yourself a good friend, for not a beetle of us 
could bear to do it. Biffer will certainly be sick if he 
dines with his cousins, but I am sure that you will not 
eat a morsel, so you will be able to take care of him. 
Have a good time and don’t get lost. Biffer knows every 
stick and pebble of this part of the country but he is such 
a heedless fellow that he is liable to get you into scrapes 
if you don’t look out.” 

Peter assured the anxious father that he would be care- 
ful and then Biffer ran up. 

“So long, Dad,” he cried. “We will tell you all about 
it when we get back,” and catching Peter by the sleeve 


IN MEADOWLAND 


177 

he pulled him down the little hummock near the rock and 
out into the path, and off to their adventure went the 
beetle and the boy, side by side, waving good-bye to the 
watching group until a turn in the road hid them from 
sight. 


LXXVIII 

BOY AND BEETLE GO ADVENTURING 

“This is what I call fun,” said Biffer, who was bubbling 
over with spirits. “Dad is so afraid I am going to do 
something terrible that he hardly ever lets me go off by 
myself, and as for mother, — she fusses over me so that I 
can scarcely get out of her sight. They forget that I am 
almost a grown Beetle now, or I will be in a few months, 
anyway. Hey there, who is that ahead of us ?” 

“I don’t see any one,” said Peter, but he had no sooner 
spoken than he did catch sight of a strange figure standing 
motionless by the side of the path. At first he had taken 
it for a stone. As they came nearer, Peter saw to his 
surprise that it was a great dark beetle that was standing 
bolt upright on its hind legs, with its front legs clasped 
over its head. 

“Who is he?” he asked Biffer in a low tone, “and what 
on earth is he doing?” 

“S-sh, don’t let him hear you,” whispered the little 
beetle. He is the Holy Man of Beetle-land, and whenever 
any of us meet him we must be very polite to him because 
he is very wise and good. When we are in trouble and 
don’t know what to do we go to him and he will tell us. 
He is praying now, you know, so we must not disturb him. 
But let’s take off our hats as we go by.” 

“That is exactly what he is doing,” said Peter whisper- 
ing back. “We don’t put our arms over our heads just as 
he is doing but we Humans say our prayers, too.” 

“Oh, we don’t all need to do it, in my country,” said 
Biffer in the same low tone, “and I am glad that we don’t, 


178 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

for I know my claws would ache if I were to hold them 
like that.” 

By this time they had reached Praying Beetle and were 
passing him, hats in hand and claw, and Peter glancing 
at the fellow, thought that he looked pretty ugly for a 
holy man, and privately decided that he wasn’t really 
praying at all, but just holding his claws in that position 
because he wanted to. But then he thought of what Bif- 
fer had told him, and concluded to keep his opinions to 
himself. He looked back after they had gone some dis- 
tance and saw that the fellow, whatever he might be, was 
still standing in the same position in which they had first 
seen him. 

Biff er was too excited to walk sedately and kept run- 
ning ahead of Peter and then back again to tell him of 
something that he had seen. But the path was a winding 
one and at last Biff er turned around a corner and was 
lost entirely to view. The boy hurried after and over- 
took him before long but he thought for a moment that 
the beetle had gone mad. He was jumping about and 
clapping his claws and chanting something that sounded 
like, “Ya, ya, ya ! He, he, he! Hy, hy, hy!” When he 
saw Peter he beckoned to him in great excitement. 

Peter couldn’t imagine what he was doing, but he ran 
up to see, and just as he reached the little beetle he felt 
a sharp pain in his foot, and then suddenly it seemed as 
if something had hold of him and was trying to pull him 
into the ground. He clutched at a clump of grass that 
grew high above his head and hung on with all his might 
while he screamed for aid. 

“Help me, Biffer, quickly! I am afraid I am going to 
lose my foot. Something is dragging me into a hole and 
I don’t know what it is!” 

Biffer rushed up at his cry and evidently knew in an 
instant what had happened. 

“Hey there, Tiger, leave go of that foot,” he cried 
bending down and shouting into what Peter saw plainly 
for the first time was indeed a hole in the ground. “I 
am Biffer the Gun Beetle, and you have trapped a friend 


IN MEADOWLAND 179 

of mine. If you don’t let him go I will smother you with 
a gas attack.” 

Whatever it was that had grabbed the boy, it evidently 
knew that Biff er would make good his threat, for it let go 
of him so quickly that he was taken off his guard and 
fell head over heels into the soft cool grass clump that 
he had been hanging on to. 

LXXIX 

THE HOLES IN THE GROUND 

Before he could wriggle out of his leafy retreat, Biff er 
came crawling in to help him, but he only succeeded in 
making a bad matter worse, for it was almost impossible 
for one to untangle his arms and legs from the clinging 
grass roots and spears, to say nothing of two. They got 
so mixed up in it and in each other it was quite a while 
before they could work themselves loose. To make things 
more difficult, both of them began to giggle at the silly 
mess they had gotten themselves into; and when they 
finally had extricated themselves, they sat down on a 
stone at the side of the grass clump and laughed until 
they had to wipe the tears from their eyes. 

“Boy, you did look so funny all wound up in those 
leaves,” chuckled Biff er, and Peter said: 

“I’ll bet I didn’t look as foolish as you did when you 
flopped over on your back with all your feet kicking in 
the air! It was bad enough for me to get tangled up in 
that grass, and when you came in it only added to the 
confusion. What made you do it?” 

“To help you out, of course. I thought I could bite 
the strands that held you, with my teeth, but you twisted 
about so that I couldn’t get hold of them, and before I 
knew it I was fied up in a knot myself. I wonder what 
Father would have thought if he had seen us ! He would 
not have said we were taking very good care of each 
other, would he?” 


i8o 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


“I don’t know about that,” said the Boy, becoming 
suddenly sober. “I believe that I should have lost my 
foot if it hadn’t been for you. It aches yet from the pinch- 
ing that it got before you came to my aid. And the queer 
part of it is that, although I am perfectly sure that some 
one or something was trying to drag me down into that 



But vou watch tmo sb holes 

CLOSEC/ v 


hole I didn’t see a thing. Evidently you knew all about 
it, though, for when you called, ‘Hey there, Tiger, leave 
go of that foot,’ I was released. Now who in the world 
is Tiger, and why, pray tell, did he want to hurt me like 
that?” 

Biffer, however, didn’t answer his question immedi- 
ately. Instead he nudged Peter with his leg and whis- 
pered to him to keep perfectly still. 


IN MEADOWLAND 


181 

“S-sh, don’t say a word or make a movement and in a 
moment or two you will see for yourself who your at- 
tacker was. Do you see those holes in that path, not 
over there, you are looking the wrong direction, — right 
here near us,” and he pointed to several openings in the 
ground not far from where they were sitting. 

“Yes, I see them now,” whispered the boy. “They 
look like ant holes, only there doesn’t seem to be any hills 
near them. Are they?” 

“No,’ ’ replied Differ, still in the same low tone. “They 
are the holes of the Tiger Beetles — another branch of 
our family, but none of us have much to do with them, 
they are too savagely cruel with anything that falls into 
their clutches, and besides they work underground and 
set traps for unsuspecting passers-by, and we hate that 
trait in them. I am proud to say that nobody in the Gun- 
beetle tribe ever fights unfairly. We are open and above 
ground in all that we do. But you watch those holes very 
closely and you shall see what you shall see!” 

“What shall I see, Biff er ? For pity’s sake tell me,” 
pleaded the boy. But the little beetle shook his head, 
and held up his front claw in front of his mouth to warn 
Peter to silence and he wouldn’t say a word. So there 
was nothing for the boy to do but to keep his eyes fixed 
on the mysterious holes. He grew decidedly tired of 
doing nothing after a while and he was just about to risk 
Biffer’s displeasure by speaking to him when suddenly he 
saw something that made him rub his eyes in amazement. 
He could hardly believe that what they visioned for him 
was really true. 


LXXX 

BEETLE MAGIC 

He had not taken his eyes away from the holes that 
Biffer had told him to watch and yet, — no, it couldn’t be 
possible, — yes, it was certainly true, there were no longer 
any holes at all. There was only the path, smooth and 


182 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


without even a tiny dent to show where the holes had 
been but a second before. 

The boy was too astonished to say a word. He could 
not stop looking at the scene of the strange disappear- 
ance, but he touched the beetle to attract his attention 
and he felt the little insect’s body shaking with silent 
laughter, and then he heard Biffer’s low whisper : 

“Be quiet, don’t make a sound, and I will show you a 
trick I bet you have never seen before. You think that 
there are no holes in the path now — don’t you — and you 
are doubting that you ever saw any. Well, the holes are 
still there, and you will see them appear again in a mo- 
ment. But do you know what you are looking at now? 
Of course you don’t, and you never would know if I did 
not tell you ! You are gazing straight at the heads of the 
Tiger Beetles, — I dare say you are looking at the very 
fellow who nipped your foot a while ago.” 

“How can I be looking straight at anything and not 
see it?” demanded the boy, but he remembered to speak 
under his breath. “I don’t believe that there is anything 
there now, and to tell the truth you guessed right. I 
doubt now that there ever were any holes there. I must 
just have imagined them.” 

“Do you think so?” snickered Biff er. “Very well, sir, 
just you keep on gazing at the same place and I will make 
the holes reappear. Stay right here until I come back.” 
With the last word, the beetle crawled silently away from 
Peter’s. side and went slowly dowr^the path., careful not to 
make a sound. He had not gone very far before he 
stopped and began to chant those strange words that 
Peter had heard just before he was seized by the under- 
ground thug. 

# “Ya, ya, ya ! He, he, he ! Hy, hy, hy !” droned Biff er, 
his voice getting louder and louder and suddenly he cried 
shrilly, “Disappear, you old hobgoblins!” and stamped 
upon the ground, and presto, chango ! Behold, there were 
the holes again, as plain to be seen as the nose upon one’s 
face ! 

“I never saw anything so queer in all my life!” cried 


IN MEADOWLAND 


183 

the boy, getting up and running towards Biffer. “Are 
you a magician, that you can make those holes come and 
go at will? They are certainly there now. Can you 
cause them to disappear now? What are they anyway?” 
The boy bent down on one knee to look at the opening 
that was nearest him. 



BEFORE PETEK’S ASTONISHED EVE'S 


“Take care,” warned Biffer. “Don’t go too close to 
the edge or Tiger might seize you again, and if he got 
hold of your head it would be the worse for you. If you 
really would like to know all about it I will call Tiger out 
and he can explain things better than I can.” Being a 
beetle of his word, Biffer bent down towards the hole and 
called, “Tiger, Tiger,” and quickly, before Peter’s aston- 
ished eyes there appeared at the mouth of the hole two 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


184 

bright eyes and then a large head and toothed jaws, and 
out of his lair emerged one of the queerest creatures that 
the boy had yet seen. And almost at once from all the 
holes about appeared others just like the first comer. 
They solemnly ranged themselves in a circle about Peter 
and Biffer, and it must be confessed that for a moment 
the boy wondered what was going to become of him 
among so many ferocious creatures, as Biffer had declared 
them to be, — and with one voice the Tiger Beetles cried: 

“Well, cousin, what do you want of us?” 

LXXXI 

UNDERGROUND TIGERS 

“I want you to meet one of my best friends, the Boy 
here, although I must say that one of you has introduced 
yourself to him in rather an unceremonious way and I 
shouldn’t blame him much if he was not inclined to like 
you. But he is very good-tempered, so I think he will 
forgive and forget all about that nip you gave him as a 
greeting to Tiger Beetle domain. What about it, Boy, 
will you?” 

“Of course,” said Peter eagerly, “and I am delighted 
to have this opportunity of knowing you.” The Tiger 
Beetles bowed their big heads politely, and one among 
them rose and said: 

“And I wish to apologize for the attack upon you. Of 
course, had we thought for a moment that you were a 
friend of Cousin Biffer we would never have allowed it to 
happen. However, that is all past and gone. Next time 
you come our way, just call us by name and say ‘El, Ay, 
Elebra,’ and since that is the password of our clan, you 
will go unharmed.” 

“Oh, thank you,” said the boy. “I shall do that now, 
every time I find a Tiger hole, but I wonder if you would 
mind telling me how you happened to be able to grab me 
before I even saw you at all!” 


IN MEADOWLAND 


185 

“Easily,” declared the spokesman. “You will see, if 
you notice, that our heads are exactly the color of the 
ground, and when we are hungry and wish to catch our 
dinner we leave our rooms, and take our places at the 
open door. We cover the opening with our heads, so 
that the passer-by can’t detect us and when he steps upon 
us we grab him, hold him in a vise, — our jaws you know, 
— pull him into our hole and devour him at leisure. Do 
you want to see how we do it?” ‘ 

The boy was a bit scandalized at the cannibal-like 
habits of the Tiger Beetles, but he was interested just the 
same and so he tried to keep from shuddering and said: 

“I should like it very much, provided you don’t intend 
me as the victim, and I would much rather that you didn’t 
really catch anything now. You can show me without 
doing so, can’t you?” 

“Certainly we can. Here, Son, into the hole with you, 
and quickly, and demonstrate to the stranger how we 
fool people.” 

At his bidding a small beetle dropped into the opening 
and in the twinkling of an eye Peter could see nothing but 
the ground where the hole had been. 

“He has put his head against the opening and is block- 
ing it up, and it is so much the color of the ground that 
you can’t tell the difference,” explained the one who 
seemed to be managing affairs. “Now you,” and he 
pointed to another in the circle, “open your jaws and 
show Boy the trap we set.” 

The fellow obeyed, and Peter, who had moved close 
to him, jumped back, actually startled at the sharp teeth 
and the cruel jaws which made him think of a spring trap 
that might come together at any second, and he didn’t 
want to be in the way when it did. The Tigers smiled 
broadly at his fright, but said nothing. Peter was 
ashamed, but he determined to hide it by asking another 
question. 

“How do you keep that position in the hole?” said he. 
“I should think that you would get tired and drop down.” 

“We might, if we were not anchored firmly to the 


i86 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


ground by these two hooks,” replied the other, and he 
turned around and showed Peter the hump on his back 
where they were. “Was there anything else that you 
wished to know about us?” 

“No, I think not,” replied the boy. “I am ever so 
much obliged for your telling me what you have. You 
certainly have a wonderful head. It fits the hole in the 
ground exactly as a cover fits a stewpan, and I under- 
stand perfectly why you are called Tigers. You are a 
great deal like the real things, you know.” 

LXXXII 

MOTHER TIGER BEETLE WARNS HER BABIES 

“The real things! The very idea! We are the real 
things. I should like to know what you mean by insinuat- 
ing that we are not. The fact that we are grubs has noth- 
ing at all to do with the matter.” 

Until now the Tiger Beetles had been very friendly, 
but at Peter’s last remark they snapped and showed their 
teeth in anger. Biff er thought it high time for him to 
take a hand, although he knew no more than his cousins 
what Peter meant. 

“Don’t be so cross, cousins,” remarked he quickly. 
“Boy meant nothing at all. He didn’t think that you 
would object to being reminded that you were grubs. Of 
course you are not quite grown up yet, you know. He 
didn’t intend to hurt your feelings I am sure of that.” 

Peter in his turn was confused, but he thought it best 
to take the cue from Biffer. 

“Of course I didn’t,” said he. “I was only ” 

He was interrupted by a shout from one of the small- 
est members of the circle: 

“Hurrah! Here comes Mother and she is running 
away from something, too. I wonder what she will say 
when she finds us all out of our holes ! I for one am 
going back in mine. I don’t want to be scolded, I can tell 


IN MEADOWLAND 


187 

you, but the rest of you can do as you like.” Quick as a 
wink in popped the little creature — then all the others 
followed suit, and Peter and Biff er were left alone in the 
path, down which was coming Mother Tiger Beetle at 
full speed. 

The boy was half afraid that she was going to bowl 
one or the other of them over and he wished that he had 
gotten out of the road. But he needn’t have worried. 
She paid no attention to either of them, and just as she 
had almost reached his side she turned sharply and made 
for the nearest hole and as she flew past him he heard 
her mutter, “Thank goodness, I am in time and the chil- 
dren are all at home.” 

She bent down over the hole and peered in. 

“Child, come up,” she cried. “ ’Tis Mother who has 
come to warn you,” and Peter who had followed her, 
curious to find out what she was up to, saw the bright eyes 
of the little Tiger grub appear at the opening. 

“A horrible man is coming this way,” cautioned 
Mother Beetle, “and he is hunting for Tiger grubs, — I 
heard him say so. Hook yourself to the earth and shut 
the door with your head so that he shall not find the hole 
he is looking for. Above all, do not move until I tell 
you that all is safe. If you do he will catch you and you 
will never grow up to be a Tiger Beetle. I have come a 
long way to warn you, so be sure that you mind what I 
say.” 

To one after another of the nests she hurried until she 
had warned all of her babies, and then and only then did 
she notice the boy. 

“Well, what are you following me about for?” she de- 
manded. “If you wanted to speak to me why didn’t you 
wait? Couldn’t you see that I was busy? And I can’t 
waste much time on you now, as a matter of fact. I must 
look for a hiding-place of my own. I don’t care about 
being taken a captive, myself.” 

“Do you think that he would actually harm you?” 
asked the boy. “Or is he just curious to see you at close 
quarters.” 


188 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

“I am sure I don’t know, but there is one thing sure 
and that is that I am not taking any chances. Good 

gracious, there the monster comes now!” 

• • 

LXXXIII 

IN HIDING 

All the time that Mother Tiger Beetle had been on the 
scene, Biffer had been amusing himself by digging little 
holes in the path but at some distance from the homes of 
the grubs and now he came dancing up to the boy and 
Mother Beetle. 

“Ha, ha,” laughed he. “Don’t worry, Auntie, the man 
will never in this world find my cousins unless one of them 
forgets what you said and pokes his head up or runs back 
into his house. For I have fooled him. Do you see 
those holes I have just made? They look exactly like 
the grub holes and the old fellow will come along and see 
them and spend all his time trying to coax the cousins 
out, and by the time he finds that he has made a mistake 
he will be too disgusted to look any farther.” 

“Biffer, you are the cleverest member of the family!” 
said Mother Tiger Beetle. “I do believe that you have 
saved the day. But here we stand talking, right out in the 
open and all the time he is coming nearer. I shouldn’t 
be surprised if he had seen us already. You two can do 
as you like, but I am going to get under cover right now. 
I know of a good place right behind that wild blackberry 
bush. He can never get at us there even if he should 
try. I have done several favors for that bush, scratched 
up the dirt around its roots and destroyed its bug enemies 
and it will protect me with its thorns. I am going there 
and you can come with me if you wish to.” 

Off scuttled the lady and Biffer ran beside her. Peter 
was a little doubtful as to whether he quite wanted to 
hide in such an ignominious manner or not. He saw, 


IN MEADOWLAND 


189 

however, that the man was only a few yards away from 
him and he suddenly remembered how tiny he was. A 
fear that the great creature might even step on and crush 
him under his foot before he got a chance to explain who 
he was seized him, and he turned and ran with all his 
might towards the wild blackberry bush. 

Through its branches he pushed pell-mell and before 
he reached the side of his erstwhile companions the thorns 
had scratched his face and torn his coat, but he didn’t 
stop until he was well hidden from the prying eyes of 
the insect hunter. Neither Biff er nor Mother Tiger was 
particularly pleasant to him at first. 

“I must say,” remarked the latter, “you are a fool- 
hardy creature ! There you stood until the man was 
almost upon you and then you turned tail and ran for 
shelter straight towards our hiding place. If he had any 
sense he could have followed you and perhaps caught us 
all before we could escape. That was a nice thing to do! 
If you were going to hide here, why didn’t you come along 
when we did?” 

“I thought I would face him,” said Peter breathlessly, 
and it must be confessed his voice trembled as much from 
fear of the cross looking Beetle as from haste, “he is only 
a man and I have never been afraid of one before!” 

“Of course you haven’t,” said Biffer with a laugh. 
“You are a child-man yourself, aren’t you?” 

“Spy,” hissed Mrs. Tiger Beetle between her teeth, 
and the boy was sure that the angry insect was going to 
jump on him. “You waited out there just on purpose to 
betray us. You are in league with him. Who knows 
what you have told him about my babies? But you shall 
never play traitor again. I will settle your fate, my 
friend!” 

There is no telling what might have happened, so 
furious was Mother Tiger at the boy, if Biffer had not 
jumped between the two with wings outstretched. 

“Here, hold on a minute,” cried he sharply. “I can 
explain matters if you will only keep your temper.” 


190 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


LXXXIV 

BIFFER TRICKS MR. INSECT HUNTER 

“What do you know about him?” snapped Mrs. Tiger 
Beetle. “Is he a friend of yours ?” 

“I should say he was,” answered the young Gun Beetle. 
“Why, he saved my life at the risk of his own, and he is 
the best fellow in the world when you come to know him. 
Suppose he is a child-man. What of it? He is not to 
blame for what one of his kind does any more than you 
could help your baby grub catching hold of Boy here and 
trying to drag him into the hole. I was downright 
ashamed to have one of my own cousins treat my guest 
so, I can tell you. Why, I brought him here on purpose 
to meet you all. He is visiting Insect-land and he would 
not be the same size as we are if he meant to hurt us, 
would he?” 

“I hadn’t thought about that,” answered Mother Tiger 
slowly. “It certainly sounds as though there must be 
something in what you say. I am sure I am very sorry 
if I have been rude to a friendly guest. My only excuse 
is that I mistook your intentions, sir, and as no doubt you 
have heard before if you have been long in Insect-land, 
self-protection is our law, — we can’t afford to think much 
before we act, down here.” 

“I accept your apology,” said Peter politely, remem- 
bering suddenly that he had read somewhere that that 
was the proper way to answer any one who said he was 
sorry. “It is too bad that I always seem to do some- 
thing that makes a bad impression right at the start of 
getting acquainted with you insect folks. Do excuse me. 
It is all because I don’t understand your ways yet, you 
know. I hadn’t the least idea of betraying you, truly I 
hadn’t, but it seemed so cowardly to run away from a man 
who was so much like my own father, and it only dawned 
upon me at the last moment that he probably wouldn’t be- 
lieve what I said even if he could hear me. I had waited 


IN MEADOWLAND 191 

too long to change myself into boy size again, so I became 
panic stricken and ran to you. I am sure he did not notice 
me, though, for he was looking at a book and making 
notes.” 

“What do you mean by that?” queried Mother Beetle. 
“Is it anything terrible?” 



“Oh my, no,” answered the boy smiling. “Making 
notes only means that he had seen something that inter- 
ested him and he was writing it down on paper so that 
he wouldn’t forget it. I shouldn’t wonder a bit if he had 
caught sight of the holes that Biffer made and was jotting 
down the fact. He probably thinks that he will soon 
have a nice collection of Grub Tigers, if that is what you 
call them.” 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


192 

Biffer was peering through the tangled branches of 
the vine and now he gave a whoop of joy. 

“That is exactly what he is doing, Boy,” cried he. “Just 
look at him, will you, going about from hole to hole ! 
What is that he is sticking into them? A straw, as sure 
as I am a beetle! I suppose he thinks the grubs will 
catch hold of it, — they are such cross things and have 
the reputation of never letting anything get by without 
giving it a good bite, — and then he will pull the chap out. 
Ha, ha, ha, he will poke a long while before he gets any 
results there. I’ve fooled him. Tra, la, la, la!” 

The jolly youngster was so pleased with himself that 
he forgot he was in hiding and commenced to sing out 
loudly. Mother Beetle hastily clapped one claw over his 
mouth. 

“Are you crazy?” she demanded. “Hush or you will 
attract his attention to us and we could never get out of 
here in time if he attacked us. There is no exit in the 
rear, for we are right against a bank.” 

“That was a silly thing for me to do,” admitted Biff er, 
“but he didn’t hear me. Look, the man is walking now 
just as we do. I never knew you Humans went on all 
fours like that, Boy!” 


LXXXV 

THE FOOLISH LITTLE TIGER GRUB 

“Neither do we unless we are looking for something,” 
said Peter, “and of course that is just what the man is 
doing. He is trying his best to find the Grub Tigers. I 
do hope that they will stay in their holes, for I am begin- 
ning to think that if he does catch one of them he will 
take it away with him.” 

“What would he do to my baby?” demanded Mother 
Tiger in a nervous way. 

“Oh, he wouldn’t hurt it,” answered the boy hurriedly, 
to soothe her fears. “He would probably give it a place 


IN MEADOWLAND 


193 

of honor in his collection, for that is just what he is, a 
collector. He goes around and gathers up all sorts of 
odd things and keeps them in what he calls his specimen 
•case. I knew a man like that once. Really, his specimen 
case was a very handsome thing too, and everything that 
was in it was greatly admired by every one who came to 
see him.” 

“Hmm,” mused Mother Tiger. “That does sound 
like quite an honor. Perhaps it would be nice to have one 
of the family win it. Does he ever let any of them out 
to come back and see their people once in a while?” 

“I am afraid that he doesn’t,” said Peter, but he didn’t 
dare tell Mother Beetle why. “He thinks too much of 
them for that.” 

“Well, in that case,” remarked she decidedly, “I had 
much rather he didn’t catch my babies.” 

“Don’t worry,” said Biffer cheerfully. “He isn’t going 
to. He is giving up the hunt in despair right now. See, 
he is putting that book, as the Boy calls it, away in that 
big black thing that he is carrying. What is that thing, 
Boy? It looks like a cage.” 

“That is only a bag to carry things in,” answered the 
boy. “And he certainly is leaving. I am glad of it, for I 
have been sitting on my foot all -this time and it has gone 
to sleep.” 

“Your foot gone to sleep!” exclaimed both Beetles in 
one breath. “That is ridiculous. How can your foot go 
to sleep?” 

“Oh, that is only an expression,” laughed the boy. “Of 
course it doesn’t really. I mean that it is numb and feels 
as if a lot of little needles were sticking in it.” 

“That is exactly how my wing has felt ever since we 
came in here,” said Mother Beetle. “I am as pleased as 
you are to see the last of him. There he goes now. In 
a few seconds he will be around the turn and then I can 
tell the children everything is all right.” 

Alas and alack! Evidently one of the babies at least 
had become tired of waiting for his mother, and thinking 
that the danger was over, had poked his head up over 


i 9 4 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

the hole and seeing nothing near him decided to come out 
and stretch his legs. So out of his home he hopped and 
started off for a little walk, but unfortunately he chose 
the direction in which the man was going. As might be 
expected, the man caught sight of him immediately and 



OH MV BA&y, MV POOR FOOLISH BAB>V 


snatching his hat off his head he threw it at the unsuspect- 
ing young grub and to the horror of the group under the 
blackberry bush it fell over and covered him completely. 

“Oh my baby, my poor foolish baby!” wailed Mother 
Tiger Beetle. “It is too late to save you now. Why 
didn’t you wait for your mother to call you?” 

She was right. Too late it certainly was, for the man 
had seized the grub in his hands and was already putting 
it carefully away into a bottle. 


IN MEADOWLAND 


195 

“I’d like to do something to that man, the hateful 
thing!” said Biffer wrathfully. “Why doesn’t he mind 
his own business, instead of coming into Insect-land and 
breaking up people’s families like that! It is a perfect 
shame, Auntie. I am awfully sorry.” 

Peter tried to think of something cheerful to say, 
although he was not at all sure how the sorrowing mother 
would take it. 


LXXXVI 

THE MYSTERIOUS RAP 

“I am sorry that it happened too, Mrs. Beetle,” said 
he. “I wish with all my heart that it hadn’t. But he will 
be very well taken care of, and he will receive every at- 
tention. At any rate you need not worry about that.” 

Mother Beetle had been weeping and wringing her 
claws, but at Peter’s words she suddenly stopped and a 
slow smile came over her face. 

“I declare, for the moment I had forgotten all about 
what you said,” she exclaimed. “I am going to miss him 
terribly, he was my youngest son, you know. But after 
all he would soon have grown up and left me; and for 
some reason when we Tiger Beetles grow up we don’t 
think much about our old fathers and mothers. Perhaps 
it is just as well that he was captured. He will be the only 
one of the Tiger Beetle family to have the honor of being 
kept in a specimen case. It will give us quite a standing 
in the neighborhood. Dear me, I must tell the others. 
How proud they will be ! Good-by, folks. I hope I’ll see 
you again soon. Who knows what may happen before 
then? I shouldn’t wonder if Father is elected to some 
high office. The Tiger Beetles are sure to do something 
for one who has a son in a specimen case.” 

Peter almost laughed aloud at the airs and graces 
which Mother Beetle was suddenly acquiring, but he had 
to admit that she looked very lovely as she hurried down 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


196 

the path in the sunlight, shining like a jewel of many 
colors. Biffer, however, couldn’t be serious about any- 
thing for long at a time, not even about the capture of a 
cousin, and now he burst into chuckles. 

“Tee hee, Boy! Doesn’t it make you laugh to think 
of how foolish the grub must have felt when the hat fell 
over him? My, but that must have been the surprise of 
his life! It is too bad, of course, that he got caught and 
I felt sorry for Auntie, but that man certainly can throw ! 
And Auntie is content now that she has a celebrity in the 
family.” 

The boy was about to tell Biffer that probably the poor 
captive was even now pickled in alcohol and was doomed 
to spend the rest of his days stuck on a cork, but he 
thought better of it. He didn’t want to say anything to 
destroy the loyal little chap’s trust in him. Just as he was 
about to suggest that they crawl out of their hiding place, 
the queerest noise arose and right near them too, and 
fearful of some new danger they huddled together, still 
as mice. 

Tap, tap, tap it sounded, and then from somewhere off 
came an answering knock. 

“Whatever is that?” whispered Peter in alarm. “It 
sounds like a woodpecker, but there is not a tree in sight.” 

“S-sh,” warned Biffer. “Don’t say a word, and we 
will soon find out. Look, — what on earth is that great 
eye looking in at us?” 

Peter looked in the direction that Biffer was point- 
ing and there, right outside the blackberry bush, was a 
huge eye looking straight at them; and as he watched, 
fascinated, there appeared another and then another. 
Suddenly Biffer nudged him. 

“Pooh, what an idiot I am. Those aren’t eyes at all. 
They are only eyespots on a wing. I think, — yes, I am 
almost sure that I know who it is now. Listen. There 
goes that sound again.” 

“Rat-a-tat,” it sounded again and again, and then, 
but much nearer this time, came the response. Now 
the boy could see for himself that what he had thought 


IN MEADOWLAND 


197 

were eyes were indeed markings on a gray wing that 
was waving lazily back and forth. 


LXXXVII 

PETER AIDS AUNT DEATH WATCH 

Then as he watched from behind his leafy screen he 
saw another eye-spotted wing appear from the other 
direction and “tap, tap, tap” came six sharp little raps. 

“Just as I guessed,” whispered Biff er and then he 
called out loudly : 

“Good afternoon, Uncle Death Watch. You nearly 
scared us to death. I only just discovered who you were.” 

“Oh,” screamed a shrill voice and another sterner one 
said : 

“How dare you scare my wife like that! See what 
you have done. She has fainted away. Dear, dear, what 
shall I do? I can’t leave her to get water, and that is 
what she needs. If she came to and found me gone she 
would topple over once more.” 

“I’ll get water for you,” said the boy as he tried to 
wriggle his way through the thorny branches. “It will 
take me a minute to get out of here ; but I noticed a brook 
a little way back and I’ll bring it to you in my hat in no 
time.” 

“I am sure I am much obliged to you, Sir,” said Death 
Watch gratefully, and he watched anxiously as Peter 
pushed his way out and hurried off to the brook. “Hello, 
Biffer, glad to see you, but what on earth are you doing 
in there and who is your friend? He seems to be a 
very kind-hearted person.” 

“He is,” agreed Biffer, “and say, Uncle, I am ashamed 
of myself for scaring Aunt Death Watch so. I didn’t 
mean to, — but you frightened us first. We saw your 
wings and thought the spots were eyes. And by the 
way, was that you rapping?” 

Uncle Death Watch didn’t answer his question, for 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


198 

just then Peter ran up with his cap full of water, and 
the anxious husband dipped in his claws and dashed the 
cool drops upon his wife’s face, and coughing and sneez- 
ing the poor lady regained consciousness. 

“Who was that, husband?” she asked. “There are 
so many awful things happening nowadays that I am al- 
ways expecting the worst.” 

“How often have I told you that it is a bad idea to 
look for trouble, dear!” replied her spouse. “But you 
are too old to change your habits, I expect. That voice 
that startled you so only belonged to our nephew Differ, 
the Gun Beetle. He is nothing to be so afraid of, is he?” 

“No indeed, and I am ashamed of myself, but you 
know the state my nerves are in. How do you do, 
Biff er, and pray tell who is this with you?” 

“Oh I am just a visitor in Insect-land,” answered 
Peter for himself, determined that he would not explain 
matters every single time he met any one. “I hope you 
are feeling better, madam, and wouldn’t you like a drink 
of water? I still have some left.” 

“Thanks very much, Sir, but I feel quite all right now,” 
said the little lady, sitting up and smoothing down her 
wings. “We are out house-hunting and I thought when 
I heard husband calling that he had found a choice spot. 
Have you, my dear?” 

“I should say I had,” said he cheerfully, “the nicest 
spot in these parts, in my estimation. If you like it we 
will build a home that will be the envy of the whole 
Snap Beetle tribe. It is right behind yonder hummock. 
Shall we go and look at it together?” 

“Yes, let’s,” agreed his little wife, jumping to her 
feet. “You go ahead and I will follow slowly and you 
rap every once in a while to show me the way. You 
know how much slower I fly than you do, and I know 
it tires you to keep pace with me. We are very glad 
to have seen you again, Biff er, and are delighted to have 
met you, Sir, and I’m sure I’m thankful for your kind- 
ness.” 

Mr. and Mrs. Snap Beetle bade the boy and Biffer 


IN MEADOWLAND 


199 

a polite farewell and off they flew, the faithful husband 
leading the way. And long after they were out of sight 
there could still be heard the rat-a-tat-tats of Mr. Snap 
Beetle as he called to his mate. 


LXXXVIII 

HOW UNCLE DEATH WATCH GOT HIS NAME 

“What a devoted couple they seem to be,” remarked 
Peter as he watched the tip of Aunt Death Watch’s 
wing disappearing around the turn. “And they are pleas- 
ant people too, but what a dreadful name they have!” 

“Yes, isn’t it?” agreed Biff er readily. “In Insect- 
land, though, most of us are named with a reason, — 
because of something we do, perhaps, or eat; and I re- 
member my grandmother saying that Uncle and Aunt 
Death Watch, small as they are, frightened you Humans 
very often. When they made a tour of your houses as 
they sometimes did and gave that curious knock of theirs, 
the people living in that house thought that it was a sign 
that some one in the family was about to die. And long, 
long ago some ancient member of the Beetle tribe heard 
a Human say this and he went back and told his tribes- 
men and to this day the Snap Beetle is known by the same 
title that they nicknamed him then. 

“I suppose you have no idea,” continued Biffer smil- 
ing, “how silly we insects think you Humans are at times. 
Now for instance, isn’t it the most foolish thing in the 
world for any one to believe when they hear the tap-tap 
of Uncle Death Watch’s wings that it is an evil sign, 
when all that the nice old fellow is doing is calling to 
his wife to come where he is? Ha, ha, ha!” 

“The joke is certainly on us,” said the boy laughing 
heartily, “and I don’t blame you insects for thinking that 
we humans are a stupid crowd. But it is really because 
we are so much larger than you are that it is hard for us 
to get acquainted with you. Once in a while a fellow 


200 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

tries, like that man who was hunting for Tiger Grubs, 
and then you are afraid of him and run away. 

“Of course we do,” Biffer said decidedly. Why 
shouldn’t we, pray tell, when the creature.shows so plainly 
that he doesn’t care a snap for our feelings and only to 



JUST E ATI MG A FEW BUACX.BERSIES 
MV FRI EMD" REPUED PETER 


satisfy his own curiosity he breaks up homes and car- 
ries off the babies? And once I saw one of these hunt- 
ers stick one of my cousins on a great long sharp thing 
and how my poor cousin did cry! I have never for- 
gotten it.” 

“It must have been a pin,” thought Peter, and he 
said aloud: 


IN MEADOWLAND 


201 


“That was a terrible thing to do and I don’t blame 
you for being afraid of us all.” 

“Oh, you are different,” replied Biff er quickly. “I 
knew the moment I saw you that you wouldn’t hurt a flea 
and in Insect-land any one that will not hurt a flea is con- 
sidered very much the gentleman. But what I wish you 
would tell me is if a Human wishes to know us, why 
doesn’t he come and meet us in our homes, just as you 
have done and not be so cruel as to take one of us away 
off to his house? If he only knew it, he can’t learn a 
thing about us that way. We never show him our best 
side when we are all alone, and certainly when we are 
stuck on pins we are not much good. Now are we?” 

Before the boy could answer his question the little 
Gun Beetle went on: 

“All this conversation is very interesting, of course. 
But it isn’t bringing us anything to eat, and I am getting 
hungrier every second. We started out to dine with 
Cousin Sexton and we haven’t even seen him yet. Good- 
ness knows, he may have eaten up the whole mouse by 
this time! Do let’s go on; and I hope we shall not have 
any more adventures before we reach him. What are 
you doing now, I should like to know?” 

“Just eating a few blackberries, my friend. I am 
nearly starved myself and I am not so sure that I am 
going to like a meal of mouse as well as you think you 
will. At any rate, I simply can’t go any farther on an 
empty stomach,” declared the boy. 

LXXXIX 

COUSIN SEXTON BEETLE FLIES UPON THE SCENE 

“Do you know, Boy, that sometimes you say things 
that I can’t understand at all?” said the young beetle, as 
he stood quite still in the middle of the path and looked 
curiously at Peter. “For instance, what did you mean 
just now when you said that you could go no farther 


202 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


on an empty stomach? You haven’t even lain down on 
your stomach, much less walked upon it, since I’ve known 
you ! I didn’t know that you could go on anything but 
your two hind feet.” 

Peter laughed at Biffer’s confusion. 

“I suppose I do say things that sound queer to you,” 
he said, “but you do things that seem quite as strange 
to me, you know. Of course I don’t really move on my 
stomach. I only meant that it was so empty that I felt 
too hungry to wait any longer before putting something 
into it, — that I was too weak to go another step until 
I had eaten. Now do you get the idea?” 

“Certainly I do. It is very simple since you have 
explained. But I can’t see why you didn’t say that in 
the first place. I hope you feel better now that you have 
had those berries, for I can’t eat them and I am anxious 
to have a meal myself. I am pretty sure that this is the 
very road that Mouse Restaurant is on; and if I re- 
member correctly, it is not very far away from here. 
If we hadn’t had to wait for Mr. Insect Hunter to get 
out of the way, we would have been there a long time 
ago. Come on, do!” 

The boy laughed and started down the path at Biffer’s 
side. He had filled his cap with blackberries that he had 
picked while the beetle was talking, and he ate them as 
they hurried along. 

They had not gone very far before they heard a queer 
humming, faint at first, but gradually it sounded louder 
and more distinct. 

“What can that noise be?” asked the boy looking care- 
fully about. “I don’t see any one, do you?” 

“No,” said the beetle, “I don’t, not yet. But you may 
be sure that there is some one coming. It sounds to me 
like friend Bumble Bee. No, it can’t be he, though, — for 
his fine wings could never make such a loud noise. I 
can’t look behind me very well, — I have a stiff neck 
this morning. Are you sure that no one is following us?” 

Peter looked over his shoulder. 

“Perfectly,” said he. “There isn’t a soul in sight. 


IN MEADOWLAND 203 

Hold on, — yes, there is too. You are right, Differ. Some 
one is following us, but in the air. Look up quickly. 
See! There! Right above us! Is he friend or foe?” 

Biffer tilted his head to look and there, sure enough, 
almost directly over their very heads was flying a dark 
body that seemed to the boy to be twice as large as 
either of them. He wondered if it meant to do them 
harm and he looked about to find a shelter if he should 
need it. But just then to his relief he heard Biffer hail 
the flier. 

“Hello, Cousin Sexton,” cried he, and waved a claw in 
greeting. “Wait a minute, will you? We are on our 
way to dine with you. How far is Mouse Restaurant?” 

The flier paused a moment and poised himself with a 
slow movement of his wings. 

“What did you say?” called he, bending down his ear 
to listen. “I can’t hear you very well, the wind is too 
strong.” But before the little beetle could repeat his 
question, he continued: 

“Why, it is you, isn’t it, Biffer? I didn’t recognize 
you at all. Perhaps because I didn’t expect to find any 
one with you. I suppose you are on your way to join 
us at dinner. I’ll be with you in a minute.” 

True to his word, he spread wide his wings and 
dropped gracefully to the ground between Biffer and 
the boy. 


XC 

AN UNPOPULAR MEMBER OF THE FAMILY 

“Cousin Sexton, this is my friend, the Boy,” announced 
Biffer promptly. “I knew you wouldn’t mind, so I in- 
vited him to accompany me. Besides, I had to have some 
one with me. Father put his claw down and absolutely 
refused to let me come alone. In fact he didn’t want 
me to come at all, — said mouse would make me ill, and 
that I wouldn’t like it, and a lot more disagreeable things. 
I don’t know what made him talk so, — in fact all the 


204 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

crowd acted as if I was doing something terrible. But 
I was determined to find out what made you so fat and 
jolly, so here I am !” 

“I rather thought that you would have a hard time 
of it, trying to visit me. For some reason or other, 
none of the other beetle tribes have ever liked me very 
well. Indeed, one day your own father was positively 
rude to me. I’was going about my business and helping 
wifie to bury her eggs, when he came along and I asked 
him to help. He refused in anything but a courteous way 
and called me ‘unclean.’ I would have been very angry 
at him, but I am such a good-natured chap that I never 
can feel provoked for long at a time.” 

“What a fine disposition you must have,” remarked 
the boy, joining in the conversation, “and I admire your 
coat too. Those wide yellow bands look lovely against 
the shiny black. But what on earth could you be doing 
to make Father Gun Beetle make such a remark? I have 
always found him most polite and he seems to be pleasant 
to every one too. He acted very generously to Stag 
and Rose when they surrendered. I can’t imagine him 
saying anything unkind, can you, Biffer?” 

“Well, Dad speaks to the point when he does say 
anything,” acknowledged his son, “and above all else he 
does hate dirt and refuse.” 

“Yes/’ said Cousin Sexton a little sadly. “That is 
why he despises me. But he has no right to, for I 
can’t help being a carrion beetle. That is my nature, 
and perhaps it is as well for the rest of you insects that 
I am. You might find it very unhealthy to live among all 
the dead things that I bury and get out of your way. But 
that is all the gratitude I get for disposing of what you 
don’t like. You all despise me.” 

“I don’t, Cousin Sexton,” said Biffer eagerly. “Do 
you suppose that I would be here if I did?” 

“Well, you probably will after you have visited us,” 
replied the fat fellow. “Everybody does. Wife and I 
never learn our lesson, however. We would like to be 
friends with all our relatives, so we keep on inviting 


IN MEADOWLAND 


205 

them to dine with us; but they never come again, once 
they have. Oh, well, there is no use worrying about it. 
We do our duty and live our own lives and if other in- 
sects don’t like us, it is nothing that we can help.” He 
sighed heavily. 

Peter felt sorry for him. 

“I am afraid that you take things too much to heart,” 
said he. “We can’t all be alike, of course, but we can all 
find something in each other to admire. For instance, I 
may not want to live just as you do, but I know I shall 
be much interested in your manners and customs. But 
to change the subject. For some time I have been smell- 
ing something decidedly disagreeable. Can either of you 
tell me what it is ?” 

To the boy’s amazement Biffer coughed loudly at this 
instant and turning to look at him Peter noticed that 
the little Gun Beetle was shaking with repressed 
laughter. Cousin Sexton, however, seemed far from 
pleased. In fact, the boy was almost sure that he saw 
tears in his eyes, and it was he who answered the ques- 
tion. 


XCI 

DISAGREEABLE IN SPITE OF HIMSELF 

“I am afraid that what you are smelling is me,” he 
replied in a hesitating way. “At least every stranger 
that ever comes near me remarks the self-same thing.” 

“Oh, I beg your pardon,” said the boy greatly em- 
barrassed. “I never thought of such a thing, or I would 
never have mentioned it.” 

“Don’t apologize,” continued Cousin Sexton. “I am 
quite used to it, in fact I always expect to be reminded 
of my odor. But there again I can’t help myself. If 
you will closely notice my coat, you will see that it is 
covered with an oil and this oil prevents any dirt from 
sticking to it, for I work in dirty places you know. Then 


206 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

too, as I told you before, I am too good-natured ever to 
fight with any one and it’s lucky for me that I don’t 
have to, for this oil smells so badly that all my enemies 
keep away from me. But it does annoy me when my 
friends shun me as well. I am an unfortunate fellow all 
around, and I mean so well too.” 

“Of course you do,” said Biff er. “And we both know 
it. But I don’t mind the odor so much. Boy can walk 
on the other side of me if he wants to.” 

“Do that, Boy,” urged Cousin Sexton, without a trace 
of anger in his tone. “The wind will blow it away from 
you then. I am awfully sorry to cause you any annoy- 
ance, I am sure.” He was so genuinely friendly and 
sincere about it all that the boy was ashamed of himself 
for minding it, but he decided that he would like the 
fellow all the more for keeping as far away from him as 
he could, and he was debating what to say next when 
Sexton remarked, as they turned a corner : 

“Here we are, folks, at Mouse Restaurant. I hope 
you will enjoy yourselves, but I am afraid that you will 
not. Where can Wifie be? I don’t see her about, and 
she left home long before I did.” 

Peter at first saw nothing but a mound of dirt; but as 
Cousin Sexton was pointing in that direction and was 
leading them towards it, he concluded that it must be 
there that they were going to dine. Sure enough, a few 
more steps brought them to it; and there, right under 
the other side of the dirt pile lay a dead mouse, so close 
to his feet that the boy had almost stepped upon it. He 
drew back in disgust, but in spite of himself he was 
interested to find out what was going to happen next. 
But he was entirely unprepared for what did. 

Out from behind this pile of dirt came running a 
second beetle, who threw itself upon Cousin Sexton and 
caressed him joyfully. 

“I am so glad that you have come,” crooned she. 
“We are going to have such a fine place to store our 
eggs and mouse is so plump that he is sure to furnish 
tasty food for our babies when they are born. I thought 


IN MEADOWLAND 


207 

that you would never get here. I am famished, aren’t 
you? Shall we eat now, or are you going to work first?” 

Cousin Sexton patted her on the back. 

“I think that I will work first,” said he. “I have 
brought two guests to dinner and I think that they will 
like a shady dining-room better than to sit here in the 
broiling sun. But it will not take me long to bury him. 
Sit down every one and watch me. Wife, be sure that 
you do not stay too close to Boy. He finds our oil 
most unpleasant.” 

Evidently Mrs. Sexton was quite as good-tempered as 
her spouse, for she replied quite undisturbed: 

U I don’t blame him a bit, and to tell the truth so do I 
myself at times. Yet it serves a useful purpose, so we 
must be thankful for that. But make yourselves com- 
fortable, guests, and see how well husband does his task. 
At least that is one thing that you can be pleased with. 
Neither of you would like to see poor mouse lying 
about for long, now would you?” 

XCII 

THE LITTLE GRAVE DIGGER 

Biffer said something, but the boy didn’t notice what, 
for he was too much engrossed in watching Sexton 
Beetle. The fat fellow who had appeared so lazy had 
bent his head to the ground and using it as a plow was 
digging furrow after furrow in the earth about the 
mouse. Around and around he went in endless circles, 
until Peter was beginning to feel dizzy from watch- 
ing him, until slowly yet surely the body of the mouse 
sank into the ground. At last it disappeared entirely 
from sight. 

Then Cousin Sexton made spades of his claws and 
carefully shoveled over the mouse all the dirt that he 
had dug and thrown up on the side of the hole and at 
last he had made the little grave all smooth and trim, pat- 


208 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

ting the dirt neatly down. Then he commenced to make a 
little side door into the grave. 

The watchers were so interested that they had quite 
forgotten dinner and Peter was about to ask Mrs. Sex- 
ton what her husband was doing that for when he came 
up out of the tiny entrance, and ran towards them. 



TO THE D)H)MG-RQQM 

“Are you ready to eat, folks?” queried he. “Mouse 
Restaurant is all ready, I have just cut through a pas- 
sage to the dining-room and our meal awaits us there. 
Shall we start?” 

“I for one am willing,” said Mrs. Sexton, and Biffer 
stood up to join her, though he whispered to the boy that 
he was losing his appetite, but that he didn’t think that 



IN MEADOWLAND 


209 

it would be polite to back out, now that Cousin Sexton 
was so anxious to entertain him. 

Peter, however, sorry as he was to disappoint the 
well-meaning couple, decided to be firm in his refusal. 

“I appreciate your invitation more than I can tell 
you,” said he, holding out his hand to shake Sexton’s 
claw. “But I am only human, you know, and couldn’t 
possibly eat mouse, even if I tried. You see, I am used 
to living on other kinds of things, and although I can 
understand how you are fond of food like that, I 
shouldn’t enjoy it at all my self. But I shall not be 
hungry. I see a berry bush over on the other side of 
the road. I will dine on fruit to-day, if you please.” 

“Don’t you ever eat flesh?” asked Sexton curiously, 
and Biff er answered for the boy. 

“Of course he does, and he needn’t deny it. My 
grandfather told me that all Humans ate cows and 
pigs, and I remember how it astonished me to hear it. 
They are such huge things that it is almost impossible 
for little things like insects to imagine it. But, of course, 
Humans, when they are their right sizes are great crea- 
tures, too.” 

“Well, I don’t want to urge you to do anything against 
your will,” said Sexton. “So I will say farewell to you 
now. You will probably not see us again. Wife and I 
always take a nap after meals. After all, I suppose it 
is every one to his taste, and if you like berries and I 
like mouse, why, that is all there is to it!” 

With these words the fat fellow waved a last good-by 
and crawled out of sight down the passage and his wife 
and Biff er followed him to the underground dining-room. 

XCIII 

BIFFER CONFESSES HIS FOLLY 

Peter was busily picking berries when he heard a faint 
cry and out of Sexton Beetle’s doorway reeled Biff er. 


210 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


“You and Father were perfectly right about mouse as 
a food,” cried he, “and I wish that I had listened to 
you. It is dreadful stuff ! And although I only ate a 
very little, it has upset my stomach completely. I was 
sorry to have to leave Cousin Sexton Beetle so abruptly 
but I simply couldn’t stand it any longer. Oh dear ! Oh 
dear! How my head does ache!” and he held it be- 
tween his claws. “What a simpleton I was! But I 
have learned my lesson and hereafter I will eat snails 
and proper Gun Beetle food or none at all.” 

“If you are quite sure that you don’t wish to make 
another call upon the Sexton Beetles, we might go back 
to your father,” said Peter, smiling quizzically at the little 
beetle as he spoke. But Biff er seemed to think his re- 
mark anything but funny. In fact he was quite cross 
about it. 

“Don’t you ever mention Cousin Sexton Beetle to me 
again!” scolded he. “It is no wonder that he and his 
wife are so fat. Why, they just sat there and stuffed 
until they were so fed up that they were too lazy even 
to move. They went to sleep right where they were. 
I never was so glad to get away from anything in my 
life as I was to leave Mouse Restaurant! Do let me 
forget it if I can. It will serve me right, of course, for 
going against Father’s advice, but how the other beetles 
will tease me! I have them to face, you know, so don’t 
you torment me, too. Now will you?” 

“The Sexton Beetles are a closed subject so far as I 
am concerned,” declared Peter. “I will not say an- 
other thing about them. Only I must say I am glad that 
I made my dinner on blackberries. I am sure from your 
description that I shouldn’t have liked your experiences 
a bit. But, however disagreeable they are, I shall al- 
ways remember that they can’t help it. They are very 
kind and well-meaning at heart and they certainly make 
it a lot easier for the rest of us by burying all the un- 
pleasant things that the other insects would not know 
what to do with. We have to be grateful to them for 
that.” 


IN MEADOWLAND 


211 


Biffer did not appear to be listening to Peter at all. 
He was looking anxiously down the road, and shading his 
eyes with one claw to see the better. The boy peered 
in the same direction but not a thing was in sight. Then 
the beetle spoke, and there was a frightened note in 
his voice. 

“Don’t you hear that queer noise?” asked he. “I can’t 
make out what it is, and it may mean danger to us. So 
many terrible things can happen in Insect-land before 
one really has time to save oneself. Perhaps I am a 
little nervous but I don’t like the sound at all.” 

“Nonsense,” said Peter. “I can’t hear a thing and I 
am listening just as attentively as you are.” 

He had spoken too soon, however, for just then he did 
hear a low whirring sound that grew louder as he listened. 

XCIV 

THE BLUNDERBUSS OF THE FAMILY 

Then Biffer laughed: 

“Oh, now I know who is making that noise, and he is 
nobody to be afraid of either. See, there is the disturber 
of the peace, himself.” 

The boy turned quickly and looked in the direction 
that Biffer was pointing, and just then the buzzing 
stopped. 

A baby birch tree grew across the way, and there on 
the ground underneath its slender branches lay a fat in- 
sect. He was so perfectly motionless that the boy 
thought that he must be ill and he suggested to Biffer 
that they go to his aid. 

“We will do nothing of the sort,” declared that young 
chap decidedly. “He wouldn’t thank us for interfering. 
There is nothing really the matter with him. He will 
be all right in a minute and then you will see him try to 
fly again. He is the blunderbuss of the Beetle family, — 
a good chap in his way but awfully stupid. He makes the 


212 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


same mistakes over and over again and never learns 
a thing by them. He is the fellow who has been mak- 
ing all that noise, too.” 

“But how?” asked the boy in astonishment. 

“Waft and see,” said Biffer. “There! He is coming 
to life and in a moment he will start his silly performance 
over again.” 

The insect was getting slowly to his feet and as the 
two watched him he started to climb the trunk of the 
tree under which he had been lying. After a great deal 
of effort he reached a height that he evidently thought 
was sufficient and crawling out on one twig he stood erect 
and lifting his wing-cases he spread out his wings and 
waved them frantically and immediately the buzzing 
commenced again. Then he began to turn around and 
around, as if to find out whether or not he had enough 
space for a good start. When he had satisfied himself 
that all was well, he rose into the air from his stand 
and attempted to fly away; but he had miscalculated dis- 
tances again, and before he could get started he bumped 
into a branch, and down to the ground he fell and lay 
as motionless as before. 

“Now, why didn’t he climb up to a twig that was 
more in the open, and instead of flying up, why didn’t 
he fly out?” asked the boy, and Biffer laughed. 

“Don’t ask me, ask him,” said he. “Those two things 
are what we, his relatives, have long wondered about. 
But we have never questioned him, you know, for after 
all it really isn’t our business and he always gets started 
after a while.” 

xcv 

ROLLING DOWN THE HILL 

After a series of starts and stops Pinch Bug had at last 
started on his way, and the boy sighed with relief as he 
and Biffer watched him lumbering through the air. 

“I can’t see that we are accomplishing anything by 


IN MEADOWLAND 


213 

standing there,” remarked the restless Gun Beetle finally, 
tugging with his claw at Peter’s coat. “Come on, let’s 
do something. I think that I see something moving over 
on that hummock. Shall we go over and see what it is?” 

Evidently he took the Boy’s consent for granted, for 
without waiting for him to answer, off he ran and in a 
moment Peter, who had slowly followed him, heard the 
short, sharp report of Biffer’s gun. But Biff er was no- 
where to be seen. 

“Where in the world has he gone, and at whom is 
he shooting?” thought Peter, and he called aloud as he 
ran in the direction of the sound: 

“Biffer, Biff er, where are you, and what is the mat- 
ter? I am coming to help you. Don’t be afraid !” 

He heard no answer, but by this time he had reached 
the hummock and was clambering up its steep sides. It 
seemed to him that he heard a groan and he thought that 
it came from the other side of the hummock. He hurried 
on as fast as he could and when he reached the top he 
had to rest a moment for breath. As he stood there, 
above the brow of the tiny hill slowly rose an object 
that he could not at first make out. It was round and 
black and when it had entirely come into view looked like 
nothing so much as a huge ball. 

It moved slowly towards him and he became panic- 
stricken at once. 

“Suppose that it should fall on top of me !” he thought. 
“It would certainly smother me, if it did not entirely 
crush me. What can it be? It is moving, so I suppose it 
is an insect, — probably the same one at whom Biffer 
fired. Poor fellow, I wonder if he is hurt. What shall 
I do? I don’t like to leave him to his fate, and yet this 
terrible thing will certainly destroy me if I stay.” 

Then, quite suddenly the problem was settled for him. 
He caught his foot in a tuft of grass and pitched head- 
long to the bottom of the hummock and as he rolled 
over and over he heard again the sharp shots and to his 
horror caught a glimpse of the huge ball bounding after 
him. He held his breath, expecting at any moment that 


214 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

it would fall upon him, but he reached the bottom and 
lay there for a long enough time for something to hap- 
pen if anything was going to. But he was still safe and 
sound. 

Then he heard a shout and, opening his eyes, he saw 
Biff er running down the hummock and in a moment the 
beetle was bending over him. 

“Are you hurt, Boy?” he asked him anxiously. “I 
saw you tumbling down, but I was not near enough to 
help you.” 

“I am all right, not injured a bit, but I will confess 
that I was half scared to death,” said the boy. “I 
caught my foot in the grass, but I believe that it was 
fright that really made me lose my balance. What was 
that monstrous thing I saw on the hill? And where is 
it now? The last sight I had of it, it was rolling down 
the hummock after me. I was sure I should never see 
you again. And what, pray tell, were you firing at?” 

“I can answer that last question,” said an angry voice 
right at the boy’s very ear, and he looked up quickly 
to find standing near him the queerest insect that he 
had yet seen. 


XCVI 

MRS. TUMBLE BEETLE’S TALE 

Peter was quite sure that the newcomer was a beetle, 
by the shape of its body, but its head was quite different 
from Biffer’s or any of his relatives that he had met. 
It was flat and had several knobs upon it. He learned 
that he had been right in his supposition as to what 
family it belonged to, when Biff er said: 

“Boy, you will certainly think that we are a queer 
lot when I tell you that I was shooting at my Cousin 
Mrs. Tumble Bug and that this is she.” 

“Of course, I am glad to meet you, Sir,” said that lady. 
“But I wish that you were not always so ready to use 


IN MEADOWLAND 


215 

that gun of yours, cousin. Your hastiness has caused 
all three of us much discomfort this afternoon.” 

“What happened, Mrs. Tumble Bug? Do tell me,” 
pleaded Peter. “The first thing I knew, Biffer had run 
away from me and had disappeared in a mysterious 
fashion; and then I heard shots and knew it must be 
he that was firing, and even yet I have no idea what for.” 

“Well, it happened this way,” began Biffer, but Mrs. 
Pinch Bug interrupted. 

“Your friend asked me, and I shall tell him the truth 
of the matter,” said she with much dignity. “If you 
must know, Sir, I had laid my egg in a choice morsel 
that is inside the ball and which I knew would make good 
food for my baby when it hatches out. And I had 
molded dirt over it carefully so that it would protect 
the food and the egg and had gotten it just the right 
size, when I discovered that I had it on the wrong side of 
the hill. You see, on the other side it slopes down to- 
wards the brook and if I left the ball there something 
might come along and start it rolling in the wrong 
direction and it might fall into the water and then my 
poor little baby would never be born. That would never 
do after all the trouble I had taken to lay my egg in 
the right place. So I started to roll my ball up the 
hill.” 

“I was running up on this side,” cried Biffer, taking 
up the tale, “and just as I reached the top, up rose a 
great black object right in front of my eyes. I couldn’t 
see what it was, but it scared me, so that I turned around 
and fired at it quickly.” 

“Yes, and you frightened me so terribly that I dropped 
the ball from my head and I couldn’t catch it until it had 
gone all the way back to the bottom,” scolded Mrs. 
Tumble Bug. 

“Well, you needn’t be so cross about it, now that it is 
over. I couldn’t help being scared and besides, didn’t 
I turn to and aid you to roll it back up the hill?” asked 
the young Gun Beetle. 

“To be sure you did, but so you should have, when 


2l6 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


it was your fault that I dropped it!” replied the lady 
decidedly. “But when I reached the top I received an- 
other shock, for there standing right in front of me was 
a creature the like of which I had never seen before, 
if you will pardon me, Sir.” 

“That was I,” said Peter eagerly. “And I don’t blame 
you a bit for being startled. I must have come upon you 
unexpectedly. But you gave me as bad a fright. I 
thought you were some strange monster of Insect-land 
and I lost my head, as well as my footing, and fell down 
the hummock. But by the way, where is that ball you 
speak of? Now that I know what it is I shall be in- 
terested in seeing it. I thought that it was going to be 
the end of me for a time, though.” 

“Here it is, right alongside of you, Sir,” answered 
Mrs. Tumble Bug. “It is an unusually fine one, too, I 
can tell you. But what I want to know now is, why did 
you shoot that second time, Biff er ? Did you see any one 
else about here ?” 


XCVII 

A CREST-FALLEN CULPRIT 

“Yes,” said Biff er, “I did. Just as we had reached the 
crest of the hill with the ball I happened to glance 
behind me and I saw two strange fellows racing towards 
us. They were coming so fast that I couldn’t well make 
out who they were, but from their haste I judged that 
they were enemies about to attack us. So I turned about 
and fired at them and that is the last of them that I have 
seen.” 

“Did you notice whether they had knobs on their heads 
like the ones I have?” asked Mrs. Tumble Bug slowly. 
“And did they have strong jaws like mine?” 

“I just told you, my dear Cousin, that I did not have 
a very clear view of them and I haven’t the least idea 
whether their jaws were strong or weak, but now that 
I come to think of it I do remember that the general 


IN MEADOWLAND 


217 

shape of their heads was something like yours, — I 
thought I saw horns, but, ” 

“But nothing, Biffer! You didn’t see horns, you saw 
knobs, and far from being enemies those were two friends 
of mine who doubtless noticed what trouble I was having 
with my ball and were running up to help me push it up 
the hill. And you shot at them ! How shall I ever 
explain it? I suppose that you have frightened them so 
that they will not come near me for a long time, — per- 
haps they will be very angry and never speak to me again. 
Biffer, I do wish that you were a little more careful 
when and where you used that firearm of yours. To say 
nothing of having injured the feelings of my friends, 
do you know that those second shots of yours startled 
me into dropping my ball a second time. Fortunately 
this time it rolled down the side I wanted it to, but if it 
hadn’t, it would have been all the same to you.” 

'The poor little Gun Beetle looked decidedly crest- 
fallen at wrathy Mrs. Tumble Bug’s rebukes, and he 
stood before her with downcast eyes, too much ashamed 
even to defend himself. The boy felt sorry for him and 
determined to distract the lady’s mind from the subject. 
He raised himself on one elbow and looked about him. 
There beside him, almost touching his body in fact, was 
a large round ball. He examined it closely and poked it 
gently with his finger. 

“You certainly made a good job of this, Mrs. Tumble 
Bug,” remarked he. “It is as round and as smooth as if 
it had been cast in a mold. How long did it take you to 
make it and how in the world did you ever get it as large 
as this? Why, it is twice your own size!” 

“Do you really think that it is a good piece of work?” 
asked Mrs. Tumble Bug, turning around and becoming 
friendly at once, pleased to hear her efforts praised. “I 
think that it is fairly well done myself, but it is not 
nearly as large as some that my family have made. My 
sister rolled one last week that is almost double its size. 
But it is easy enough to form, when once you know how. 
In fact there is nothing to it.” 


2l8 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


“Tell me about it, do please,” pleaded Peter. “This 
is the very first one that I have ever seen and it seems 
wonderful to me.” 

“Well, it really isn’t,” smiled the lady, “but of course 
I’ll explain the process, if you are as interested as all 
that.” 

Biff er now had recovered a bit from his shame and 
stepped nearer. “I would like to hear too,” said he. 

“All right, Cousin, you may,” said Mrs. Tumble Bug. 
“Sit down on the ball if you like, it will not hurt it a bit.” 

The young Gun Beetle lost no time in accepting the 
invitation and Mrs. Tumble Bug was just about to begin 
her story when Peter exclaimed: 

“Look quickly — over there by that clump of forget- 
me-nots! Something just moved! See! That queer dark 
looking object! What can it be! It is coming this way, 
too!” 


XCVIII 

THE MARBLE ON LEGS 

A queer looking object it certainly was, a huge marble 
on legs ! At first sight Peter was sure that he had never 
seen anything like it before. Such a curious way as it 
was moving along in, too! At the boy’s warning cry, 
Mrs. Tumble Bug had jumped in front of her ball, ex- 
claiming distractedly: 

“Oh dear me, what shall I do ! I ought to have 
buried my egg and not stopped to talk. Now, if these 
are enemies of my family they will destroy my ball. 
Unfortunate beetle that I am!” 

Suddenly, however, she stopped wringing her claws 
and looked intently at the approaching object and in a 
second her cry of despair changed to one of joy and 
she clapped her claws with delight. 

“What a silly thing I am!” cried she. “Why didn’t 
I make sure what was coming, before I made such a 
fuss! Can’t you guess who they are? Why, I should 


IN MEADOWLAND 219 

think you would knt>w in a jiffy from having met me 
in the way that you did, Boy!” 

Peter did not like to appear stup'id, so he watched 
anxiously to discover some way of identifying the on- 
coming creature or creatures and then he noticed that 
Biffer was chuckling to himself. 

“Do you know who they are, old chap?” he asked him, 
and the young Gun Beetle nodded his head. 

“Sure I do. I guessed even before Cousin Tumble 
Bug said anything. See if you can’t find out for your- 
self without our telling you.” 

Almost before Biffer had finished his sentence the 
boy recognized them. 

“Now I know!” said he excitedly. “That is another 
ball, just like yours, Mrs. Tumble Bug. But you man- 
aged yours all alone and there seem to be, — yes, I am 
sure that there are two beetles rolling this one.” 

“You are quite right,” remarked Mrs. Tumble Bug. 
“There are. One lady is before and one is behind. Wait 
a second, and you will see for yourself just what they are 
doing!” 

Mrs. Tumble Bug seated herself calmly by Biffer’s 
side on her ball and awaited developments and the boy, 
greatly interested in the performance, gave his atten- 
tion to what was taking place in front of him. And sure 
enough, it was not very long before the ball and the 
beetles got near enough so that he could see clearly just 
what had made them appear so strange from a distance. 

One “lady,” as Mrs. Tumble Bug had so politely called 
her, was walking on her front claws on one side of the 
ball and pushing it with her hind legs (a most unladylike 
proceeding, thought Peter), while her friend had taken 
her position on the opposite side and, standing on her 
hind legs was pulling the ball towards her with her front 
claws. 

There wasn’t anything lazy about their actions, either. 
They tugged and pulled and shoved and rolled with 
all their might and main. A little in front of the group 
of watchers was a slight rise in the ground and, try as 


220 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

they would, the two beetles had great difficulty in getting 
the hall over that. Peter would have gone to their 
aid, but he was too curious to see how they were going 
to solve the problem. The two consulted together and 
finally the larger, stronger looking one crawled behind 
the ball and while the other stood aside and watched her 
anxiously she braced herself against the ground with her 
front claws and kicked it with her hind legs. It moved 
but got stuck again half-way up. Nothing daunted, she 
ran around to the other side and pulled as hard as she 
could. And up and over the little hillock rolled ball and 
Tumble Bug together and landed right at the feet of 
the boy and his friends. 


XCIX 

TRUE TO HER NAME 

“How terrible!” cried Peter. “Poor Lady Tumble 
Bug! I am sure she must be hurt. Why didn’t I go to 
help them! Then this accident would never have hap- 
pened!” Neither Mrs. Tumble Bug nor Biff er seemed 
to be in the least disturbed, however, and just as the boy 
was about to ask them to aid him in pushing the ball 
from the body of the beetle who, he felt sure, was 
crushed, it was suddenly rolled aside and from under- 
neath it or behind it, the boy was not sure which, Mrs. 
Tumble Bug jumped up and cried in a sprightly way: 

“Now, my dear Sir, don’t you worry a bit about me. 
It is very kind of you, I am sure, but not at all neces- 
sary. I have taken care of myself for some time and 
this is not the first ball I have rolled or fallen down hill 
with either, I can assure you. I am used to tumbles, — 
in fact I rather like them.” 

“Certainly we do,” spoke up the first Mrs. Tumble 
Bug. “Isn’t that the very reason we were given our 
name? And I for one am proud of my name, — it is so 
distinctive and so exactly appropriate. By the way, 


IN MEADOWLAND 


221 


sister, let me introduce you to a new acquaintance of 
mine, the Boy. I have only just met him myself, but he 
was vouched for by my Cousin Biff er, the Gun Beetle, 
whom of course you know, and so far I have found him 
most agreeable.” 

The boy turned his head to hide a smile. He was much 
amused at the frankness of Mrs. Tumble Bug, but Bif- 
fer caught him, and bright fellow that he was he knew 
instantly what the reason was. 

“Hello, Cousin Tumble Bug number two,” said he. 
“I am sure that now you must be all prepared to like 
Boy. Certainly your sister left nothing unsaid. In 
Human-land I rather believe that it is not the custom 
to say whether any one is agreeable or not right to his 
very face.” 

“I only told the truth, Biff er. I should like to know 
what is the matter with that,” said Cousin Tumble Bug 
crossly. “You know perfectly well that we must be sure 
who folks are before we can make friends with them. 
At least I take great care, for the sake of my family, 
not to become intimate with strangers. I have found 
that the safest plan.” 

“It is a perfectly good one, too,” agreed the second 
Mrs. Tumble Bug, “and if the Boy doesn’t like it, I’m 
sorry, but why shouldn’t he, pray tell? Perhaps if hu- 
mans were more truthful, it might be better for them. 
I have never thought much of humans, as a matter of 
fact. I don’t know much about their being truthful, 
but I do know that they are deceitful to insects, at any 
rate. They are always setting traps for us, and stealing 
us away from our homes and sticking us on pins, and 
doing all sorts of horrid things. I wonder how they 
would like that kind of treatment themselves.” 

“We wouldn’t like it at all,” said the boy quickly. 
“But please don’t get angry. I think your attitude 
towards strangers is a safe and sane one and I quite 
approve of it. But all humans are not alike. I for in- 
stance wouldn’t hurt or offend you for the world. I am 
tiny on purpose, so that I can be a friend of yours.” 


222 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 

“Fine,” said the second Mrs. Tumble Bug-. “Now that 
we understand each other, every thing is all right. For 
goodness sakes, Aunt, why are you standing way off there ? 
Can’t you come over and join the crowd?” 

“Certainly I can, and I shall be glad to. I was only 
waiting for an invitation,” said Mrs. Tumble Bug num- 
ber three, crawling slowly forward. “I never go where 
I am not wanted, though. You know what tender feel- 
ings I have!” The sensitive beetle wiped a tear from 
her eye with her claw. 

“Nonsense, Aunt,” said the second Tumble Bug, “you 
are all tuckered out. That’s what is the matter with 
you. Now you sit right down on this ball and rest. We 
will visit for a while before we start to bury your egg.” 

C 

BURIED TREASURES 

The energetic beetle seized her aunt by the shoulders 
and plumped her down in no gentle manner upon the 
ball, which now rested by the side of that of the first 
Mrs. Tumble Bug. 

“Dear me, niece, you are so determined about every- 
thing. How did you know that I wanted to sit down 
just now? As a matter of fact I didn’t. I have no busi- 
ness to be wasting any time at all when there is so much 
to be done. But that is the trouble with you, — always 
insisting that every one shall do things just as you say.” 

“Now, Auntie, what is the use of being so cranky?” 
remarked her niece, not a bit daunted by the other’s re- 
buke. “I want you to stay still for a few moments for 
your own good. You don’t accomplish a bit more by 
fussing about everything than I do, even if I do take 
things more quietly. I will help you find a place in a 
little while. Perhaps Cousin Tumble Bug has been look- 
ing over the ground and can tell us something about it.” 

“To tell the truth,” said that beetle, “I have only just 


IN MEADOWLAND 


223 

come myself, but I have been talking to Biff er and he 
told me, just before you arrived that he and the Boy 
will help me dig a hole for my ball, and now that you 
are here they will probably be willing to aid you also.” 

“Of course we will,” said the boy before Biff er could 
answer for himself, “let’s all work together, first on one 
hole and then on the other, — the jnore the merrier, and 
before we know it both will be ready. But if you please, 
why do you Tumble Bugs bury your balls?” 

“So that nothing can happen to them. I should think 
that you could guess that much. Suppose that we left 
them just as they are right on top of the ground! Some 
one or something is likely to come along and step on 
them, or kick them so that they will crack open, — for 
if left out in the air they would become very dry and 
brittle, you know. In fact, there is no telling what 
would happen and it is always best to be on the safe 
side. At least that is what all the beetles believe, no 
matter what branch of the family they belong to.” 

“Yes, but we don’t all act according to that belief,” 
said Biff er suddenly. “I tried changing my diet, for in- 
stance, even after I had been warned that it was not 
safe. But never again! Snails for me, hereafter.” He 
winked at the boy as he spoke and Peter winked back. 

“Have you ever dug a deep hole, Boy, — I believe 
they called you Boy, although I really shouldn’t have 
known who you were if I hadn’t overheard them; no one 
has taken the trouble to introduce you to me. However, 
I suppose I should have grown used to those things. My 
feelings are always being hurt. The point is, do you or 
do you not know how to dig?” 

“Indeed I do, and many are the holes that I have 
dug, Madam,” replied the boy politely. “And I should 
be very glad to start now, if you will show me where.” 

“That is the proper spirit, and I congratulate you, 
even if you are not a beetle,” said Aunt approvingly. 
“If these lazy folks want to waste time, why can’t you 
and I get to work? I think I see just the spot I want, 
right beyond us in that soft earth. Are you ready?” 


PETER S ADVENTURES 


224 

“As soon as you are,” laughed the boy and jumped 
down from his round perch. Biffer followed his example, 
and so too, but more slowly, did the other two Mrs. Tum- 
ble Bugs, and all five set to work so heartily that before 
long they had dug two deep holes about an inch below 
the surface of the ground, and there, side by side, the 
careful mothers hid the balls which contained their pre- 
cious eggs and covered them over neatly with dirt. So 
well did they do their task that it would have taken 
a very bright eye indeed even to guess the places in which 
the tiny grubs would hatch out and hide until they grew up 
to be fat black beetles like their mothers. 

No sooner had they finished than Peter spied a 
stranger approaching. 

“Who comes there?” cried he. 


Cl 

SNAPPER ARRIVES IN GOOD TIME 

The beetles all looked quickly in the direction that 
the boy was pointing, with expressions so fierce that he 
wanted to laugh, but from sad experience in Insect-land 
he knew far better than to do so. Then Biffer began to 
chuckle. 

“Now for some fun,” whispered he to Peter. “Here 
comes old Snap Beetle, the most amusing beetle of the 
tribe.” 

The Tumble Bugs overheard him and now they 
too laughed, and Aunt actually joined in the merriment. 

Peter was curious and asked: 

“What does he do that is so funny, Biffer? Let me 
in on the secret, will you?” 

“Of course, you will be in on it when it comes time 
to have the sport,” replied the Gun Beetle. “But it is 
not what he does but what we do to him. Here he is 
now! Greetings, Cousin Snap Beetle!” 

Evidently the newcomer had had no idea that any 


IN MEADOWLAND 


22 5 

one was near him, for he jerked his little brown body 
nervously as he looked around to see who could have 
spoken. 

“Here we are, right in front of your nose,” remarked 
Niece Tumble Bug. “You are as unseeing as a mole, 
Snapper, when you are out walking. You actually pass 
your best friends without noticing them. If we didn’t 
know that you were an absent-minded fellow, we would 
think that you were a snob. Why do you go along look- 
ing at nothing but the ground, anyhow? You miss lots 
of interesting things doing that.” 

“I look where I please, Cousins, and I mind my own 
business, which is more than some of my relatives do, 
replied Snapper sarcastically as he slowly raised his head 
and gazed at them. “If I like to watch the ground, what 
affair is it of yours ?” 

“None at all, Snapper,” laughed Biffer, “except that 
it disturbs us greatly to have such a low-minded chap in 
the family. And now for your own good we are going 
to make you look at the sky, for a change, aren’t we, 
Tumble Bugs?” 

“Certainly we are,” cried those three beetles in 
chorus. Although Peter was completely mystified as to 
what Biffer meant, it was evident that Snapper under- 
stood him perfectly and that he didn’t enjoy the pros- 
pect, for he started to crawl away and tested his wings 
as though he was about to take to them. Biffer and the 
Tumble Bugs discovered his purpose, however, and were 
too quick for him. Running forward, all four of them 
pounced upon him and with much beetle laughter they 
pushed and pulled at him until they had succeeded in 
flopping him over on his back, where he lay for a mo- 
ment kicking madly in the air with his legs and trying his 
best to turn himself right-side up. 

Peter thought that it was too bad of his friends to 
tease their cousin so shamefully, knowing how much 
they themselves disliked being in that very position and 
he ran up to help the poor fellow regain his poise. Bif- 
fer however motioned him back. 


226 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

“Let him alone, Boy, I tell you. Don’t spoil our 
fun. This is what I was promising you.” 

Peter stopped short and turned upon his friend half- 
angrily. “I thought you were a better sport than this, 
old chap,” said he. “I don’t see the fun myself in tor- 
menting any one. You hate to be on your back yourself, 
and so I suppose do the Tumble Bugs, and now here 
you are doing all that you can to make one of your rela- 
tives uncomfortable. I wouldn’t have believed it of you. 
I am going to help him out of his fix.” 

CII 

AN ACROBAT OF THE BEETLE TRIBE 

“But you do not understand, Boy,” cried Biffer, run- 
ning to him and catching hold of his hand with his claw. 
“He doesn’t need your help, really. Just watch him a 
second and see.” 

The boy was a little perplexed just how to act. He 
didn’t like to see the Snap Beetle in such apparent dis- 
comfort; and yet Biffer seemed so much in earnest that 
he didn’t wish to displease him either. As he hesitated, 
looking at the beetle on his back a strange thing hap- 
pened. 

It had appeared as if the fellow had about made up 
his mind to make the best of a bad situation, so quiet 
did he lie; but now, as the boy gazed at him, jerk, went 
his little body, snap, went a faint noise, and right before 
Peter’s astonished eyes up bounded Snapper way above 
the boy’s head, — at least it seemed to Peter a long dis- 
tance into the air, although it was really only several 
inches that the beetle sprung. But he managed to turn 
himself over in the leap and landed close beside Peter, 
right side up. 

“How on earth did you do that?” asked the boy, as 
much dumbfounded as ever he had been in his life, quite 
forgetting that he had not yet met the fellow. 


IN MEADOWLAND 


227 

t In his turn, Snapper seemed quite as startled to find 
himself so near a stranger and a two-legged one at that, 
and he stammered: 

“Wh — who are you and wh — what are you going to 
do to me now? It is bad enough to have your own 
family forever playing tricks on you; but you don’t know 
what to fear when an outsider, and such a queer one as 
yourself, puts in an appearance.” 

“Don’t be frightened, Sir,” said Peter quickly, as he 
saw the little insect was about to run away. “I will not 
hurt you, in fact I was coming to your aid when I saw 
you on your back, but Differ prevented me. He said 
that you didn’t need any help, and I should say that 
you didn’t. That stunt of yours is the most remarkable 
thing that I have ever seen.” 

“You know you don’t mind our teasing you, Cousin,” 
laughed Biff er, running up at this instant, “and you 
know too, that while it is fun for us, we really do it to 
see how clever you are. This is Boy, by the way, — a 
great friend of all the insects, and he tried his best to get 
to you to put you on your feet, but we wouldn’t let him, 
just as he says. You are not really mad, now are you?” 

“Well, no, not quite mad,” replied Snapper, “yet I am 
just a little provoked. But then, what good will it do 
me? None at all, for you always greet me in the same 
way and I suppose that you always will. After all, 1 
suppose it is really good practice for me, for I don’t use 
my spring much at any other time!” 

“Your spring!” said the boy in amazement, unable to 
keep quiet any longer. “I never knew that any insect 
had a spring. Just what is it? Won’t you please tell 
me?” 

“Now that I am sure you are a good friend of ours, 
I shall be delighted to tell you all about myself,” said 
Snapper, politely bowing to the boy. “You see, it is this 
way. My legs are much shorter than those of the other 
beetles, so I can’t use them to as good advantage as they 
can. When they flop over on their backs they kick them- 
selves right side up again. But I have an arrangement 


228 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


in my back that helps me out when I get into difficulty. 
I can make it bend by bending my body a bit and when 
I straighten out, snap goes the spring and throws me 
up into the air. Then it is easy enough to come down to 
earth on my feet.” 

“No wonder Biff er thought he would have fun when 
you appeared. Why, you are exactly like a clown in a 
circus,” said Peter. “I shall always think of you as the 
acrobat of the Beetle tribe. You are a wonder, did you 
know it?” 

Evidently Snapper was a modest fellow. He smiled 
shyly as he said : 

“To tell the truth, I have never thought much about 
it. I do it because I have to and I always have to when- 
ever I meet a beetle like Biffer here. It grows rather 
tiresome after a while, but as long as it amuses my friends 
I suppose I shouldn’t mind going through the perform- 
ance. I thank you kindly, Sir, for being so kind as to 
praise me. Hereafter I shall be quite proud of my ac- 
complishment. But if you think I do it well you should 
see my uncle, Great-Eyed Snapper. He is even ‘snap- 
pier’ than I am, and not so nervous. Ooh ! Great timo- 
thy stalks! What was that?” 


cm 

SNAPPER ALMOST STEPS UPON HIS COUSIN 

Snapper stepped back hurriedly and just in time to 
avoid stepping upon a little soft tail, all red and blue, 
that was wriggling madly among the grasses at his feet. 
Biffer roared with laughter. 

“It seems to me that you are indeed nervous. What 
startled you so? Surely not your little Cousin Lizard 
Beetle’s tail !” 

“Startled? Who said I was startled?” demanded 
Snapper. “Can’t a fellow make a remark without being 
jumped on like that? Of course I knew it was Lizard 


IN MEADOWLAND 


229 

Beetle all the time, although I will confess that I didn’t 
expect to come upon him so suddenly, if that is any satis- 
faction to you !” 

“Now who is Lizard Beetle?” thought the boy. “An- 
other one of the family, I suppose. I do wish that he 
would come out of the grass, for I should like to see 
what he looks like. All I can see now is his tail.” 

It almost seemed that Lizard Beetle had read his 
mind, for just at this second the grasses moved violently, 
the little tail disappeared and instead of the fellow 
running off, as Peter feared he would, he had evidently 
turned about, and now between the blades a face ap- 
peared. 

“Good morning, gentlemen,” said Lizard Beetle 
pleasantly but in so strong a voice that Peter was amazed 
at its coming from so small an insect. “What can I do 
for you? I believe that you were talking about me, 
were you not?” 

“I was saying that I recognized you immediately,” 
began Snapper hurriedly, but Biff er interrupted him by 
laughing rudely. 

“Ha! Ha! Don’t you believe him, Lizard. He 
nearly tumbled over backwards when he saw your tail, 
wriggling at his feet. He nearly stepped upon you. You 
can thank your fate that he did not.” 

“I thank you, Snapper, for stopping in time, for you 
are so much larger than I am that I am afraid that 
there would have been nothing left of me.” 

“Size has nothing at all to do with your value to your 
land,” replied Snapper seriously. “And you are the 
finest soldier of all the Insect army. . I always wanted 
to be a fighter, but my father didn’t approve. When- 
ever I see you it makes me regret that I didn’t follow my 
own desires. If I had I should have been more good in 
the world than I am now. Are you on duty to-day?” 

To Peter this seemed like a most mysterious conversa- 
tion. The Lizard Beetle looked like anything but a 
soldier, — he was so small. And yet Peter could see very 
plainly that both Snapper and Biffer, — more than twice 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


230 

his size, — respected him very much indeed. He was still 
more amazed when Lizard suddenly crawled out into the 
open and he saw him for what he really was, — a regular 
little lizard, with six legs at the front of his body that was 
only about half an inch long. His soft colored tail 
moved constantly, and so fascinated the boy that he 
could hardly keep from watching it. 

If Peter had been alone when he met him he would 
have thought him a very nondescript sort of an insect 
without any importance whatever, and would have prob- 
ably passed him by without a second glance. Biffer 
leaned over and whispered in his ear: 

“You have no idea how wonderful Lizard Beetle is. 
He and his family are much thought of, I can tell you.” 


CIV 

LIZARD-BEETLE SPEAKS FOR HIMSELF 

Then Lizard Beetle spoke and answered Snapper’s 
question. 

“Of course I am on duty, Cousin. I am never off 
except when I sleep and when I rest in my chrysalis cradle 
while I am waiting to become my other self.” 

Peter’s curiosity grew greater every moment, and at 
last he could restrain it no longer. 

“Please don’t think that I mean to be rude,” he said. 
“But I am a stranger to Insect-land and its ways, and 
I am very much interested in them. Would you mind 
telling me what you fight and how you do it, and what 
do you mean by your ‘other self’?” 

Lizard Beetle smiled broadly. 

“One question at a time, Sir, if it is just the same to 
you,” said he. “I take it that you don’t know very much 
about me. Haven’t you ever met one of my family be- 
fore?” 


IN MEADOWLAND 23 1 

* 

“Oh my, yes,” said Peter eagerly. “I have seen lots 
and lots of lizards, but I never knew them very well, I 
couldn’t always talk their language, you know, and so 
none of them ever told me anything about themselves.” 

“I would know that you were a Human, in a moment,” 



BLAME BOV MUCH" CR1HTD SNAPPER^ 

said Lizard Beetle, and the boy thought that he looked 
at him a bit scornfully. “You are just like all the rest 
of them, even if you are tiny as we are and can talk as 
we do. You are rather stupid when it comes to insects, 
— pardon me for saying so, — you know so very little 
about us. And what you think you do know is really 
not so. For instance, you are classing me as a lizard, 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


232 

while really I am scarcely any more of a lizard than you 
are yourself, although I do admit that I may look like 
one to one who doesn’t know what’s what in our land.” 

“But,” protested the boy, “surely I am not so greatly 
out of the way in supposing that. Why, even Biffer and 
Snapper here call you Lizard Beetle, so of course I 
thought they knew what they were talking about.” 

“They do, and I am like a lizard as far as my tail and 
my little legs go, but there the resemblance stops. I am 
a Beetle, my dear Sir, and I am very proud of the fact 
and I am pretty sure that none of mv tribe wish to dis- 
own me.” 

“I should say not, you do the Beetles credit,” cried 
Snapper. “But after all, you really cannot blame Boy 
much. You do look like a lizard now, you know, and 
you will until after you have changed your form.” 

“Well, I suppose that if he should see me after my 
change he would not recognize me as a Beetle either,” 
said Lizard Beetle, talking to the other beetles as if Peter 
were not there. “I am so much smaller than most of 
my family, you know.” 

“What form do you take?” asked Peter. “If I ever 
meet you in the future I’ll be sure to make no mistake, 
if you will tell me now.” 

“I hardly believe that you will know, when I tell you,” 
said the little fellow, who somehow seemed to be much 
piqued at the boy, for thinking him a lizard. “But since 
you insist I will inform you. In a time not far off from 
now I shall become weary of fighting and I shall take a 
furlough of two weeks and shall climb upon a grass stalk 
and fasten myself securely there. In a little while I shall 
shed my skin and go to sleep in a chrysalis cradle. When 
I am ready to wake up I shall break the chrysalis shell 
and out I shall come, — not as I am now but as a small 
red beetle with black spots on my coat.” 


IN MEADOWLAND 


233 


CV 

A SELF-CONFESSED CANNIBAL 

Lizard Beetle stopped speaking and stared intently 
at a cluster of plumed timothy grass that was swaying 
in the wind. The boy, however, had no intention of 
allowing him to stop his story so soon. 

“That is very interesting,” he said and bent down to 
touch Lizard Beetle on the back to attract his attention. 
“But you haven’t told me who you will be when you burst 
out of your shell.” 

“I said I would be a small beetle with a pretty red 
coat trimmed with black spots, didn’t I? Oh I see, you 
want to know my name ! I shall be a Lady Bird then. 
It is a queer thing, and I don’t know that I ever thought 
of it before,” said Lizard Beetle slowly, “but I am never 
called what I really am. First I am known as Lizard 
Beetle, and I am not a lizard at all, and then when I do 
become a beetle in form as well as in heart I am named 
Lady Bird, and except for my wings I have nothing bird- 
like about me. Occasionally, to be sure, folks call me 
Lady Bug, but that is even worse.” 

Peter danced about in great glee and his companions 
looked at him in perfect astonishment. 

“It is you who are mistaken this time, old chap,” 
laughed he. “I may not have known much about you as 
you are now, but I certainly am familiar with your future 
state. You of course do not know it, but a certain Lady 
Bird is one of my very best friends, and as a matter of 
fact it was she who invited me to a ‘hunt’ and it was on 
that hunt that I Tell in with’ Biffer here.” 

Biffer laughed uproariously at this. 

“Fell in with me, — fell on me, you mean. You see, 
Lizard Beetle, it was about time for Stag Beetle and 
Rose Beetle to start on their periodical hunt for us Gun 
Beetles, and Lady Bird knowing this asked Boy here, — to 
whom she had taken a great fancy, as every one does 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


234 

when they know him, — to come along and see the fun. 
He got lost from the crowd and tried to take the roof 
off our house — but of course he didn’t know it was our 
house, — to him it was only a stone that he wanted to sit 
down on, — and we shot him and he fell in upon us and 
nearly crushed me. We liked each other right away and 
we have been chums ever since, and this morning we 
started off together on an adventure and we have been 
having, not one, but lots of them all day.” 

“So you see it was really one of your closest relatives 
who was responsible for my good times in Beetle-land,” 
said the boy to Lizard Beetle, and at this tribute to his 
family the fellow’s attitude changed immediately. 

“You are a nice sort of person,” remarked he. “And 
I don’t wonder that my cousins like you. I believe that 
you asked me several questions a while ago and that I 
have only answered one of them. Do you still wish to 
hear the rest?” 

“I should say I did,” said the boy eagerlv. “Most 
of all, I want to know whom you fight, and how.” 

“Enemies, of course, and I eat them alive.” 

In spite of himself Peter shuddered. The fellow 
looked peaceful enough, not at all like a cannibal; but it 
seemed he was. 

“You needn’t be shocked,” said Lizard Beetle, who 
saw in an instant how Peter felt. “If I didn’t, the earth 
would be overrun with pests and we Insects would all 
starve to death and would have no place to sleep or to 
make our homes and even you Humans would have little 
to eat.” 


CVI 

ON DUTY 

“No doubt I seem very stupid to you,” said the boy 
apologetically to the little Lizard Beetle, “but although 
I am much interested in what you are telling us, I really 
do not understand what you mean. Who are your 


IN MEADOWLAND 235 

enemies and how can they possibly harm us Humans? 
You are so small yourself that I can’t see how anything 
that you might fear could possibly injure even the food 
of a great man.” 

“Indeed!” remarked the fellow, slowly waving his 
tail to and fro. “Then much as I dislike to believe it, I 
am afraid that you are just what you said you must 
appear like, — stupid. For it seems to me that you should 
know that the size of a thing does not always determine 
its value in the world. I may be tiny, but if I do say 
it myself, my duty in life is no small one. Why, only 
the other day I, alone, destroyed a whole army of dan- 
gerous aphides.” 

“Aphides! What on earth are they? I never heard 
of them,” exclaimed the boy, and Biffer and Snapper 
laughed heartily at his ignorance. But Lizard Beetle 
took it as a personal affront. 

“Do you mean to tell me that you don’t even know 
them by their names? Well, I should be ashamed of 
myself if I were you, to own that such an important part 
of my education had been so sadly neglected. They are 
the 

In spite of his anxiety to do so, Peter was not yet to 
learn who these mysterious enemies were, for at this 
point in his explanation Lizard Beetle came to a dead 
stop and peered intently at the same cluster of waving 
timothy grass that he had been staring at before. But 
this time, although the boy tried to get him to go on 
with his story he was unable to distract the lizard’s at- 
tention from the object of his gaze. His tail commenced 
to wriggle furiously and his wrinkled face took on an 
expression so fierce that Peter stepped a little away from 
him. To be sure he was tiny, but then, as the lizard 
himself had said, one never could judge much from 
size, and Peter didn’t intend to take any chances. But 
he needn’t have been so cautious, for evidently the fel- 
low had quite forgotten him. 

Suddenly with a writhing motion of his body he 
started away from the little group and crawled quickly 


236 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

towards the clump of grass. Biffer pulled at Peter’s 
coat. 

“Let’s follow him,” whispered he. “I am not sure 
myself just how he fights, but I have heard what a great 
warrior he is and I should like to see him in battle, for 
as fighting is his only business, it is almost certain that 
he has spied enemies over there to make him so inter- 
ested.” 

“I am with you,” said Peter, “and every time, 
although I don’t see a sign of anything in the way of an 
insect, do you?” 

“Not from here,” said Snapper, joining in the con- 
versation. “But be sure he did or he would never have 
acted like that. Except when he is on duty, he is rather 
a lazy fellow and would have liked only too well to stay 
here and visit if he had not thought he was needed over 
there. But be sure, you two, to step carefully and not 
make a noise or you may frighten away whomever or 
whatever he is trying to surprise.” 

CVII 

ONE SOLDIER AGAINST A REGIMENT 

Stealthily but rapidly the little Lizard Beetle crawled 
along, and cautiously Biffer, Snapper and the boy fol- 
lowed him. Peter was so afraid he would be heard that 
he crept forward on tiptoe. When they had almost 
reached the timothy grass, Biffer gave a gasp and nudged 
his companions. 

“Look!” he said excitedly, but under his breath. 
“There are the enemies that he was speaking of. Just 
see what numbers of them there are — a regiment at 
least. No wonder that Lizard Beetle was alarmed. And 
do you see what they are doing? Horrors!” 

At first Peter could see nothing for Biffer to be so 
excited about, but as he kept his gaze riveted on the 
cluster of timothy, it seemed to him that the blades of 


IN MEADOWLAND 


237 


grass were moving in a curious way, — not swaying in 
the wind, as he had noticed them doing from the dis- 
tance, but in a shivery creepy sort of way, almost as if 
they were alive. As he drew a step nearer, wondering 
what caused the queer effect, he discovered something 
that almost made him doubt the evidence of his own eyes. 
He forgot that he had been requested to keep silent and 
said aloud : 

“Why, they are alive!” 

“S-sh,” whispered Snapper, and Biffer said chuckling, 
not knowing to what Peter referred: 

“Of course they are alive! Did you think Lizard. 
Beetle would take the trouble to fight dead ones?” 

“I mean the blades of grass are moving, I never saw 
them like this before,” Peter whispered. 

What the boy saw was indeed a strange sight. There 
on the blades of grass clung hundreds and hundreds — 
or so it seemed to the boy, — of tiny little insects that 
looked something like gnats. But they were not just 
harmlessly resting upon the green blades. As Peter 
watched them he discovered as they shifted their posi- 
tions that they had long tubes that they drove deep into 
the stems; and when they found what were evidently 
juicy spots they stayed there for some time, blissfully 
sucking up the juices of the grass. These were what 
had made the grass look so strange. 

The sight of the little gourmands made Lizard Beetle 
quite furious and up the stem he raced. The boy ex- 
pected that some of them at least would spy him or 
would feel the stems shake at his approach, but to his 
amazement not one of them gave the alarm. Either 
they were stupid or trusting little folks, — which, he 
never knew, — for quite unconscious or uncaring of the 
approaching warrior, they sucked on as peacefully as 
ever. 

Perhaps they depended upon their wings to carry 
them out of harm’s way when the time came, — they cer- 
tainly were provided with the means of flying, for Peter 
saw their wings plainly; but in this instance, — if indeed 


238 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

they had intended to, — they did not take to them quickly 
enough. For now Lizard Beetle landed in their midst 
and launched his attack upon them. And what an at- 
tack! Before the fat fellow nearest him had time to 
escape, he had seized it -in his jaws and gobbled it up, 
wings and all, and in the twinkling of an eye first one and 
then another of the eaters suffered the same fate. 
Straight through the ranks of the enemy marched the 
warrior whose stature was so tiny and whose jaws were 
so strong; and where he passed, not one aphis remained 
to tell the tale. 


CVIII 

A HARD-WON VICTORY 

It all seemed very cruel to the boy and he could not 
help saying so to his companions; but they, well versed 
in the ways of Insect-land, did not look at the matter 
from his point of view. 

“I disagree with you, Boy,” said Biff er decidedly. “I 
think that Lizard Beetle is doing the proper thing. Do 
you not realize, if he left all those greedy creatures 
where they are, that in no time at all they would have 
sucked out the life juice of the grasses and then the 
timothy would die? And when they had finished their 
destruction in this cluster off they would go to the next, 
and so on, until at last all the red and white tops would 
perish and then what would you Humans do, to say noth- 
ing of us poor insects? And you use this grass for some 
purpose that is very important, that I am sure of, for 
often I have watched a great two-legged creature cut it 
down with something sharp, — so sharp indeed that one 
of my poor cousins had his leg cut off by it.” 

“I have heard the Humans call the yellow-tops ‘wheat’ 
and the red-tops ‘fodder’,” said Snapper, “but of course 
I don’t pretend to know just what they meant by that, 
or when they called it a good crop. But I can’t see why 


IN MEADOWLAND 239 

you think it is cruel. The aphides didn’t know what was 
going to happen to them — so they didn’t fear it. One 
gobble and they were gone, — so it couldn’t have hurt 
them very much. It seems to me that it is a pretty easy 
way of being destroyed, — not half so bad as being 
stepped upon or pulled apart, for instance. Besides, how 
else could Lizard Beetle have conquered them? I say 
that he is a splendid soldier and deserves to be praised 
for his victory over the destroyers of the plant world.” 

Then back towards them marched the valiant little 
warrior, but slowly as if he was very weary after his 
brilliant victory. His head drooped and even his tail, 
which had wriggled so vigorously before, was quite 
still now. But behind him the blades of timothy grass 
rustled blithely in the breeze, afraid no longer of the 
greedy aphides and grateful to Lizard Beetle for having 
destroyed their greatest enemies. 

“Well done, Cousin!” cried Biff er, and “Good for 
you, old chap!” greeted Snapper, and the boy, not to be 
outdone, shouted: 

“Three cheers for Lizard Beetle, the beetle soldier! 
Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!” 

The returned hero looked up and smiled his queer 
beetle smile. 

“Of course I am happy to know that you appreciate 
my efforts,” said he, “but really, all this is very unneces- 
sary. I saw my duty and I did it, that is all. Now I am 
very tired. If you think it is any easy matter to eat 
all those pests you are mistaken. To be sure they are 
tiny, but after one has gobbled up a hundred or so one’s 
appetite begins to wane. As long as there are any left, 
however, I must go on about my work of destruction; 
for the feather tops depend on me to save them and I 
cannot fail them. So, gentlemen, if you will excuse me 
I will take a nap, so that I shall be fresh to make another 
attack when I find that it is necessary. 

“Don’t worry, folks. I always-wake-up-in-time-to-do- 
my-duty,-so ” 

His voice had been growing slower and lower, and 


240 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

now it died away altogether, and Lizard Beetle went off 
into a sound sleep before he had finished his sentence. 


CIX 

A STRANGER ARRIVES BY AIR ROUTE 

Softly the three tiptoed off so that they should not 
wake the weary beetle; and when they had gone far 
enough away so that there was no danger of disturbing 
him, they had a hearty laugh. 

“He is quite as determined about going to sleep as 
about any thing else, isn’t he?” chuckled the boy. “I 
never saw any one fall into a doze so quickly in all my 
life.” 

“Nor I,” laughed Biff er. Then he grew sober. “We 
have had good times together, Boy, you and I, haven’t 
we?” queried he. 

“I should say so. I never had more fun with any one,” 
replied Peter heartily. “But why do you say that in 
such a sad tone? Are you going to leave me?” 

“I am,” said Biff er solemnly. “Something tells me 
that I am needed at home and, much as I hate to part 
from you, I am off. The family comes first, you know. 
So long, Boy. Count on me whenever you are ready 
for another lark.” 

“Time is flying,” began the boy, but Snapper inter* 
rupted him. 

“Who ever heard of such a thing?” cried he. “Time 
has no wings. Oh, now I understand what you mean 
and I am off too. I’ve a great deal to do before the sun 
sets. Come on, Biff er. Good-by, Boy.” 

“Good-by! Good-by! Good-by!” The farewells 
lasted until the two insects were far off and Peter 
watched them out of sight, Biff er skipping along and 
Snapper turning hand-springs beside him. 

Before the boy had time to feel lonely at being so 


IN MEADOWLAND 241 

suddenly deserted he saw, off in the sky, a dark object 
that as he gazed at it grew larger and larger. 

Peter knew well that safety first was a mighty good 
policy to follow among the little people. Far stronger 
than his caution, however, was the boy’s curiosity, and 
he seemed unable to tear himself away from the spot 
on which he stood. The flying form was gradually 
drawing nearer and nearer until finally it was directly 
over his head and then, when it was too late to try, 
Peter wished that he too had sought shelter. Now there 
was nothing for it but to stand his ground; yet he had 
his own doubts as to how long he would stand there 
unmolested. 

It was no wonder that he began to be a bit afraid, 
for it was no peaceful looking object that poised him- 
self with outstretched wings above him. Long and 
slender was its green-and-yellow body and narrowed 
down at the end to a point that looked as sharp as a 
needle, and any one of its four wings looked powerful 
enough to knock him senseless at a blow. In spite of 
his awe of them, the boy gave a gasp of admiration at 
their wonderful beauty, as they gleamed in the sun- 
shine, clear and transparent, but with flashing rainbow 
tints. 

It was neither the sharp needle-like body nor the 
powerful wings that caused Peter the most fear, though, 
but the fierce face and the countless number of little eyes 
that somehow seemed to him to have a most cruel look 
as they glared down at him. At last he could stand their 
piercing gaze no longer. He felt that he must say some- 
thing, even if it made the creature angry. 

“Would you mind not looking at me like that, old 
chap?” he said in a voice that he tried to keep from 
wavering, “I am very glad to see you of course, but it 
makes me dreadfully nervous.” 

To his intense relief the ferocious face of the flier 
slowly changed expression and the set jaws relaxed into 
a broad grin, as he replied: 

“Well, you are honest enough about it, at any rate, 


242 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

and that is one thing in your favor. What is there about 
my looking at you that you don’t like?” 


CX 

THE DRAGON WITH TWO THOUSAND EYES 

“I can’t tell you exactly, Sir,” answered Peter most 
politely, “but there is something about your stare that 
makes me feel rather creepy. If you will pardon me 
for saying so, your face seems to be all eyes!” 

Far from being displeased at this remark, the new- 
comer appeared delighted and swooping down, alighted 
on a fern leaf right by Peter’s side. 

“You are an observing fellow, I’ll say that much for 
you,” remarked he. “Of course, I seem all eyes and why 
shouldn’t I? Have you any idea how many I have in 
my head?” 

“Why, now that you ask me,” replied the boy, “I do 
notice that there seem to be hundreds and hundreds, 
but of course I must be mistaken. It must be the way 
that the light strikes your eyes to make them look so 
strange.” 

“Nonsense, the light has nothing whatever to do with 
it,” said the other scornfully. “I have a thousand little 
eyes in each of my two great eyes. That makes two 
thousand eyes that I have (we insects call them facets, 
but I don’t suppose that you know what that means), 
and you can be sure that nothing ever escapes my sight. 
Do you know who I am?” 

The boy, however, didn’t hear his question. He was 
still thinking about the fellow’s eyes. 

“Have my ears deceived me, Sir?” asked he in aston- 
ishment. “Of course I do not mean to doubt your word, 
but it hardly seems possible for anything to have two 
thousand eyes. Why, I only have two and I can see 
perfectly. Why on earth do you need so many?” 


IN MEADOWLAND 


243 

“To protect myself from my enemies and to catch 
my food, of course, stupid,” said the chap haughtily. 
“If you have only two I can’t understand how you man- 
age. Why, most insects have more than that, although 
there are few that can boast of my number. But if you 
think two thousand are such a lot, what will you say 
when I tell you that the giants of our family — my cousins 
— have forty thousand tiny eyes to make up their two? 
Besides, I dare say that you don’t have to catch any- 
thing so small as a mosquito. Perhaps if you had to 
make a meal on them you would need all my eyes to see 
them with ! But you haven’t answered my question. 
Have you any idea who I am?” 

“Well, I think I have,” answered the boy, drawing a 
deep breath, “but I was so interested in your eyes that 
I didn’t know that you had asked me anything. When 
you were away off in the distance Lady Bird spied you 
and she said that you looked to her like Sir Dragon Fly. 
I couldn’t recognize you so far away and when you were 
hovering over my head you appeared different from 
anything that I had ever seen; but now that you have 
alighted and are standing still I can see plainly that 
Lady Bird guessed correctly. You are Dragon Fly, are 
you not, Sir?” 

“That’s me,” declared the fellow, a trifle careless of 
his grammar, but he didn’t seem to mind that. “But 
do you know what else the insects call me?” 

“I don’t believe I have heard,” said the boy. “I am 
beginning to think that most of you have two names. 
It is really rather confusing to know who is who. I hear 
them talking about some one that I have never even 
heard of and then when I meet the insect in question I 
discover that he is an old friend of mine whom I have 
always known by another name. I get all mixed up 
over it.” 


244 


PETER S ADVENTURES 


CXI 

CHINAMAN CATERPILLAR EATS HIS OWN CLOTHES 

“Well, you wouldn’t, if you would only remember that 
we are named for what we do as well as for what we 
are,” explained the other. “For instance, I belong to 
the family of Dragon Flies and therefore my name is 
Mr. Dragon Fly; but because I never fail to catch my 
prey I am known as the Mighty Hunter of Insect-land, 
and most of the insects fear me. As a matter of fact, 
if the silly things only knew it, I wouldn’t be half so 
much inclined to go after them if they didn’t try to run 
away from me. Their turning tail, as they always do, 
and fleeing frantically before me always lends zest to 
the chase. Now, you did the sensible thing and stood 
your ground and immediately I thought ‘now here is a 
chap worth knowing. I must make his acquaintance.’ 
Who are you, anyhow?” 

“I am just a boy,” laughed Peter, “but I believe that 
I am the only one of my race to become as tiny as you 
little folks. Please don’t let us talk about me, though. 
You are ever so much more interesting.” 

“Oh, thank you,” said Dragon Fly. “You flatter me, 
but speaking of interesting things, here comes Chinaman 
Caterpillar.” 

A great fat creature, with a lot of wobbly legs which 
looked too short and unsteady to bear his weight, wrig- 
gled out of the grass and stopped in front of the boy. 
His coat was green and ornamented with black spots 
and a row of white dots that looked much like warts. 

“You see before you one of the most economical in- 
sects known to fame,” continued Dragon Fly. “He does 
not believe in wasting a thing, — he was never known to 
throw anything away, — not even an old suit of clothes, 
for every time he puts on a new one he eats the old one 
up !” 

“Yes,” agreed Caterpillar, “this suit has grown too 


IN MEADOWLAND 245 

small for me. I am a hearty eater and I suppose that 
is the reason that I outgrow my clothes so quickly. 
There— that was the first crack. Did any of you hear 
it? Listen carefully and watch closely my coat and you 
will see some sight, I c^an assure you. And while I think 



5UDDF-:NLV )T cracked OPEN R’lGHT 
DOWN THE BACK" 

of it, let me say that old clothes don’t taste so badly, 
either. I am really getting to like them as food. Try 
eating yours some time, and see. Hurrah! Another break. 
The thing is going well and in a moment or so my md coat 
will have ripped open, and I shall crawl out of it. But 
I am fully dressed underneath. I always see to it that 
my new suit is made and fitted before I discard my old 
one. I am nothing if not modest. Modesty is one of 


246 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

the most characteristic traits of the Cynthia Miller 
family.” 

As the fellow was talking, slowly but surely he seemed 
to be undergoing some kind of a change. His green 
coat appeared to be getting lighter in color; and as the 
boy gazed sharply at it, suddenly it cracked open right 
down the back and out wriggled Mr. Chinaman Cater- 
pillar in a fresh uniform of brilliant green; but he took 
his new clothes quite as a matter of course — the old ones 
seemed to give him much more concern, for without 
wasting any time he set to and ate those out of which he 
had just crawled. When the last scrap had disappeared, 
he turned to the interested spectators and bobbed his 
ungainly head up and down. Then without more adieu 
off into the tall grass he wriggled. 

CXII 

BUT KATY DIDN'T 

The whole thing was so sudden that Peter was too 
astonished to do more than gaze fascinated after the 
caterpillar. No sooner had the economical Chinaman 
disappeared from view than two strangers came upon 
the scene. So beautiful were they that the boy caught 
his breath with delight. Long and slender were their 
bodies and they were wearing coats of the loveliest shade 
of pale green. They had wings, to be sure, but so thin 
were they that they looked like transparent leaves. 

Skipping lightly away from her companion, one of 
them began to dance, her legs twinkling so fast, her 
glass-like wings shining so brightly in the sun that it 
dazzled one to watch her. Suddenly she leaped from 
the ground, spread wide open her fan-shaped wings and 
whirred through the air with a lively hum to come down, 
plump, on the ground beside the other. 

“Krick — krick — krick,” scolded her companion glar- 
ing fiercely at the dancer and shaking his feelers threat- 


IN MEADOWLAND 


247 


eningly. To pacify her lord, the little lady again spread 
her lacy wings; and so beautiful was she that, grumpy 
as the fellow was, he couldn’t stay cross and he smiled 
and patted her with an approving feeler, saying pleas- 
antly : 

“Katydid! Katy didn’t !” 

Then gallantly he helped his tired little wife to spread 
her green mantle about her, and arm in arm, away they 
skipped. 

Peter gazed after them, half expecting that they 
would return. Then wonderingly he turned to Dragon- 
Fly. 


“What on earth was that all about?” asked he. 
“What did Katy do?” 

“Good gracious, don’t ask me!” answered Dragon- 
Fly. “I haven’t the least idea. Mr. Katydid scolds his 
wife every night and some times in the daytime we insects 
hear him saying ‘Katy did,’ ‘I say she didn’t!’ What he 
is talking about I have never found out. Mrs. Katydid 
has a wonderful disposition. No one has ever seen her 
angry yet. S-sh ! Listen! Do you hear the Weather 
Prophet singing?” 


CXIII 

A WEE WEATHER PROPHET 

“Quee, quee, quee,” sounded a cheery chirp; and now 
Peter saw a frail pale insect that looked like the Katy- 
did, but much tinier. 

“Oh, now I know who your ‘Weather Prophet’ is,” 
cried he. “That is Mr. Tree Cricket and I have heard 
him singing in the trees lots and lots of times. I can’t 
imagine how he got that name, though. Can you tell 
me r 

“Of course I can,” replied Dragon Fly, “and I am 
rather surprised, Boy, that you have never heard the 
reason before. It is a well-known fact in Insect-land. 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


248 

All of us know when cold weather is coming by the way 
the Tree Cricket sings. During the warm summer days 
he stays quietly among the cool green leaves and never 
makes a sound until nightfall and then he ventures out 
and sings his little song. When the first cool days of 
fall arrive, however, he chirps all day long. And when 
the frost begins to paint the ground white, and all the 
other insects are too cold to chirp, — when all that they 
can think about is finding a nook in which they can creep 
and keep warm, Mr. Tree Cricket sings bravely on. 
His voice grows fainter and more feeble until at last, 
when it is real cold, he can stand it no longer and he dies, 
— but with a song on his lips. Tree Cricket has never 
failed yet to tell us when to prepare for our long win- 
ter’s sleep. That is why he is called the Weather 
Prophet.” 

“I never heard of anything that was better named,” 
said the boy. “Isn’t it wonderful that a little creature 
like him should be able to know when the seasons are 
going to change? You must think a great deal of any 
one upon whose judgment you rely so greatly.” 

“We do think a great deal of him,” agreed his com- 
panion. “Not just because he is wise, though, but be- 
cause he is so cheery. He always looks on the bright 
side of things, even when he knows that his days of 
happiness in the bright sunshine are going. Most of us 
insects get rather grumpy as cold weather approaches 
and we realize that soon all our fun will be over, but the 
Weather Prophet tries his best to cheer us up and the 
more discouraged we become the more merrily he sings. 
I really don’t know what we should ever do, if we did 
not have him to keep our spirits up. I should say we 
did think a great deal of him. We love him!” 

“I feel as if I was at the movies!” exclaimed the boy. 
“One insect after another comes and goes almost as 
quickly as things happen on the screen. I wonder who 
will come this way next!” 

“There is no one in sight,” said Dragon Fly, peering 
about. “How would you like to go for a ride through 


IN MEADOWLAND 


249 

the skies? After which, if you like, I will introduce 
you to some of my particular friends.” 

“Fine!” cried the boy. “I should love that.” 

“Then climb upon my back,” said Dragon Fly. “Are 
you firmly seated? Be sure to hang on, for I fly fast and 
it might be that I’d not miss you if you should fall off, 
and if you did you’d surely break your neck. Are you 
ready?” 


CXIV 

TRAVELERS IN THE SKY 

“Ready,” cried Peter, holding on tightly to Dragon 
Fly’s body. It was fortunate that he had heeded the 
fellow’s warning, for at the signal up shot Dragon Fly 
with a suddenness that made the boy’s head spin. 
Straight up into the sky he flew until Peter began to 
think he would never stop and at a rate of speed that 
fairly took the boy’s breath away. At last, however, he 
changed his course, and once more his little passenger 
began to feel right side up and cautiously peered down, 
down between Dragon Fly’s wings to the earth. They 
were now flying over a field of clover, whose bobbing 
heads looked like mere dots swaying in the wind. Then 
Peter noticed some specks moving along in the road be- 
neath them, but he couldn’t make up his mind as to what 
they were before they had left them in the distance. 
Now he heard a buzzing that sounded a good deal like 
the hum of his steed’s wings, and sure enough they were 
meeting a huge dragon fly who waved a friendly salute 
at them as he passed by. A bumble bee, too, crossed 
their path, but the boy noticed that he picked up speed 
when he caught sight of Dragon Fly and hurried off as 
fast as he could in an opposite direction; and so too did 
a beautiful yellow-and-blue butterfly who appeared un- 
expectedly from one of the side paths in the sky. 

Dragon Fly had made so many turns that the boy had 


250 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

completely lost his sense of direction; but suddenly his 
steed swooped sharply downward and he saw directly 
underneath them the bright blue of the pool. 

For just the fraction of a moment Peter was sure 
that Dragon Fly was miscalculating his distance and was 




WITH A SuhhHNMESS THAT MADE* TKET 
BOV'S HEAT) SWIM 


going to plunge head-first into the water, and he was 
holding his breath for the dive. But he needn’t have 
feared. Dragon Fly was not in the least anxious to get 
his wings wet and at precisely the right time he swerved 
from his headlong downward course and alighted grace- 
fully upon a tall fern leaf, that with many companions 
grew by the side of the pool. 

“Well, old chap,” said the Dragon Fly. “How about 


IN MEADOWLAND 


251 

slipping off my back? Do you know, I believe that you 
are quite a little heavier than I had supposed you would 
be !” 

“I beg your pardon,” said the boy. “Of course you 
are tired and I’ll get right down,” and suiting the action 
to the words, he slipped down into the fern leaf. “I 
never had such a ride as that in all my life. I shall 
never forget it, — it was wonderful ! But you went so 
fast that it quite took my breath away. I feel dizzy 
even yet, — almost as though I was still flying. I was 
positive that you were going to land me in the water 
instead of on dry land. I had made up my mind to take 
an unexpected bath and was just going to shut my eyes 
when aside you turned and landed here. Where are we 

on 

now 1 

The Dragon Fly laughed gayly. 

“This is my old home, — the pool where I was born 
and in which I spent my larva days,” said he. “Do you 
like it?” 


cxv 

HIDDEN IN THE RUSHES 

“It is a very pretty place,” said Peter politely, adding 
“but ever since we landed here I have thought that I 
have seen eyes peering at me from the midst of those 
reeds on the other side of the pool and the number of 
them seem to be growing all the time. Have you noticed 
them, and are they friends or foes? Ever since I have 
been visiting the little folk I have seen such unexpected 
things happen that I have learned from their example 
to keep my eyes and ears wide open and when I see any- 
thing that looks dangerous to investigate it. But I see 
that you are smiling. Do you know to whom the eyes 
belong?” 

“To my uncles and my sisters and my brothers and my 
cousins, and for all I know there may be some of my 
grandparents and my father and mother among them,” 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


252 

replied Dragon Fly chuckling. “My relatives are aying 
with curiosity.” 

“If they are members of your family, why in the 
world are they hiding? They are certainly not afraid 
of you, are they?” asked the boy amazed, for he would 
never have guessed that the Dragon Flies were so shy. 
His companion laughed loudly. 

“Ha! Ha! Afraid of me!. That is a good one ! I 
must tell that to the family some time. How mad they 
will be! No, Boy, they are just waiting to see what you, 
as a stranger, are going to do next. If you should run, 
they would chase you — for it is in the nature of all of 
us to follow after anything that is afraid of us and tries 
to get away. If you should try to hurt me they would 
kill you. And when they are sure that you are going to 
do neither but are just here as a friend, they will come 
out and greet you cordially. Just wait and see if I am 
not right. I could call to them and tell them who you 
are, but I will not. You will learn more about us if you 
see things for yourself. There! What did I tell you? 
They are beginning to venture forth now.” 

Sure enough, so they were, and the boy thought as 
he watched them rising from the midst of the rushes 
that he had never seen insects more lovely, — not even 
the butterflies themselves surpassed these fliers in beauty. 
Hardly two of them were alike. There were a number 
of dainty creatures with slender long bodies that re- 
minded the boy of his mother’s darning needles, and 
some had lace-like wings of dusky blue, some of purple 
and the wings of others were as transparent as the thin- 
nest kind of tissue paper and were streaked with all the 
colors of the rainbow. But not all the Dragon Flies were 
lithe and slender. A lot of them were large handsome 
chaps with broad bodies and wings of bright yellow or of 
green and gold. But they were all delightful to behold, 
and Peter could not take his eyes from them as they 
darted into the air, rising, falling, wheeling and turning 
with an ease and grace that were remarkable. 

At last one of them decided that it was high time to 


IN MEADOWLAND 


253 

find out who the strange newcomer was, since it was 
quite evident that their relative was not going to inform 
them. He evidently told the other fliers what he was go- 
ing to do, for as soon as he had turned and darted across 
the pool they were ready for this move and, flying in 
formation, they followed closely behind him. 

If the boy had not been assured by his friend that 
they would do him no harm he might have felt a little 
fear, for they came in such numbers and looked so large 
and threatening and glared at him so fiercely with all 
their thousands of eyes. But as it was, he stood his 
ground and bowed very politely to the leader of the 
swarm as he alighted beside him on the fern leaf. 


CXVI 

THE TWO BROTHERS 

“Good afternoon, Sir. I hope you are well,” said 
Peter to the new arrival, and his remark so took the 
Dragon Fly by surprise that he seemed in imminent dan- 
ger of falling from the fern leaf. He fluttered his wings 
agitatively and it was a second before he could find his 
voice to speak. Then he said: 

“Good afternoon, stranger. I must say I was never 
more surprised in all my life. Of course I thought that 
you were some sort of a Human from your shape, but you 
are so small that I almost doubted my senses. And now 
you speak to me in my own language ! You are the 
first Human I ever knew of who could do that. It is 
wonderful! You will pardon my delay in speaking to 
you. Your voice took me so unawares. But allow me 
to ask you, Brother,” said he turning to Dragon Fly, 
“why didn’t you tell me who he was?” 

Dragon Fly smiled slyly. 

“You didn’t give me a chance to, did you? How did 
you happen to see us, and how is it that all the family 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


254 

is at your back? It seems to me that you must have 
been watching us for some time. Am I right?” 

H is brother seemed to be much embarrassed. Evi- 
dently he did not wish to confess that he had been hidden 
in the rushes. He knew that Dragon Fly would make 
fun of his curiosity; besides, he did not desire a perfect 
stranger to find out what a ‘bump’ of it the Dragon Fly 
family had. It was necessary for him to answer his 
brother’s question, however, so he stammered, — 

“I, — we, — that is they, — er, er ” He didn’t appear 

able to continue and Dragon Fly, instead of helping him 
out of the awkward situation, deliberately winked at 
Peter. Just what the fellow would have finally said 
Peter never knew, for suddenly his brother cried: 

“But dear me, here we are taking up all the time our- 
selves while our relatives are waiting to meet you. Come 
on, everybody, gather around us, and I will introduce 
you to the smallest Human you have ever seen.” 

H is relatives needed no second invitation and in the 
twinkling of an eye they ranged themselves in a circle 
around Peter and the two Dragon Flies, and so closely 
that the tips of their wings touched. It was a pretty 
sight, but so thoroughly were they surrounded that Peter 
was very glad that he was in the midst of friends. 
“There wouldn’t be much chance of running the gamut 
here,” thought he. “My goodness! Are they bowing 
to me?” 

Bowing they certainly were, with considerable cere- 
mony too. Yet, they seemed rather top-heavy and if it 
had not been for their wings, which thev opened in the 
emergency, they would have lost their balance and 
tumbled to the ground. 

“Glad to meet you! Delighted I’m sure. So pleased!” 
murmured one after another and over and over 
again, until Peter decided that until he said something 
in acknowledgment they would never stop. So he stepped 
forward, pulling Dragon Fly with him. 

“You don’t know how much I appreciate your making 
me so welcome to your shores,” said he. “I have never 


IN MEADOWLAND 


255 


visited a Dragon Fly settlement before and I am sure 
that I am going to enjoy my stay among you immensely. 
Is this place only a summer resort or do you live by the 
side of the pool always? It is very beautiful here. And 
are there more of you to come or is this the whole 
family?” 


CXVII 

A SHORT LIFE BUT A MERRY ONE 

Dragon Fly Number One was just about to say some- 
thing, but his elder brother forestalled him. Balancing 
himself neatly upon the fern leaf, he spoke with a self- 
important air: 

“Oh, there are lots more of us,” said he. “Now, is 
fhere anything else that you would like to know? It is 
my privilege as the mightiest hunter here to answer 
your question, guest, and ” 

He was interrupted in the middle of his remarks by 
a chorus of protests. 

“Well, of all the nerve! Who said you were the 
mightiest hunter? You are not a bit better than the rest 
of us ! About all you do is to chase insects for the fun 
of it. You never bring anything home for food! Only 
the other day we saw you pounce upon more flies and 
butterflies than you could possibly have needed for food 
and snap and tear off their wings and legs in sport and 
then drop them to the ground. Shame on you, for being 
such a conceited fellow! Shame!” 

Their criticisms, however, did not seem to have much 
effect upon the self-assured Dragon Fly, for he calmly 
continued his speech. 

“That is all nonsense, of course,” said he. “You all 
tear off the wings and legs and even the heads of smaller 
insects. You can deny it all you want to, but nobody is 
going to believe you. And why shouldn’t you? We are 
made that way. Perhaps I hunt more than you do and 
it may be that I do capture more insects than I need to, 


256 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

but that is because I am so big and strong and fearless. 
However, I don’t want to talk about myself, ” 

“Oh no, you don’t!” scoffed his relatives, interrupting 
him again. This time he paid no attention whatever 
to them, but turned directly to Peter. 

“I hope that these folks here will not give you a bad 
opinion of the Dragon Fly family,” remarked he 
grandly. They are rude, but I trust that you will par- 
don them. We are not all like that. Let me see! I 
believe you asked if we lived our life by the side of the 
pool or if this was only our summer home. The answer 
is ‘yes’ to both of these questions. Now what else did 
you wish to know?” 

“Oh, but that doesn’t half answer me,” objected the 
boy. “How can it be that this is only your summer 
home and yet you spend all your life by the pool? Per- 
haps I am stupid, but I really do not understand it at 
all.” 

“Of course you don’t,” said Dragon Fly Number One 
suddenly, just as his brother was about to speak again. 
“And it is no wonder. My brother has not made it at 
all clear. He has had his turn and has failed to make 
good with his explanations and from now on I will show 
you the sights of our home and tell you whatever you 
wish to know. But he is right, — I will say that for him, 
— in answering ‘yes’ to both of your questions; for our 
lives as Dragon Flies are not quite a summer long. We 
change from larvae into perfect Dragon Flies in the 
early summer, and when frost comes we die!” 

“Oh, how terrible!” cried Peter, frankly sorry to 
think that his friend must give up his good times so soon, 
but a little at a loss just what to say. His companion 
laughed. 

“I am glad that you feel that way about it, Boy,” 
said he, “for it shows that you really do like us. But 
don’t you worry a bit about it, or feel sorry for us. It is a 
short life but a merry one and we are happy as long as 
it lasts, which is more than some long-lived folks can 


IN MEADOWLAND 


257 


CXVIII 

THE MONSTER IN THE POOL 

“Yes, we are perfectly satisfied with our existence,” 
agreed Dragon Fly Number Two, who seemed to be re- 
covering from his fit of self-importance. “As Brother 
says, we make the most of every moment of it. We fly 
and hunt and eat and fight all through the sunny day, 
and when it is cloudy we hide our faces in the rushes and 
do not show them again until the clouds have passed 
by. At night we hurry home to them after our adven- 
tures in the Happy Hunting Grounds and are swayed to 
sleep hidden in their friendly shadows.” 

“It does sound as if you Dragon Flies didn’t have 
very much to worry about,” said Peter, “but I am still 
curious to know what a larva is. Won’t you please tell 

-jn * 

me r 

“Don’t you remember one of the rules that we were 
taught at the Dragon school?” cried Dragon Fly Num- 
ber One. “That we always learned more from seeing 
things for ourselves than from having other people tell 
us about them! Well, I suggest that before we tell the 
Boy much about a larva we let him see one for himself. 
There are several in the pool now, you know, and one 
told me only this morning that he expected to ‘come out 
of his coat’ to-day. It must be about time now!” 

“Fine! Let’s all go down to the edge of the pool,” 
shouted the fliers and, escorted by the now friendly fliers, 
Peter walked over to the water, so near to it indeed that 
the little ripples at the edge of the pool tried their best 
to reach his feet. Then he saw a queer, cigar-shaped 
object lying at the bottom of the pool in the mud, but 
near the edge, and he knelt down to look at it the better. 
It looked much like a stick but Peter was sure that it had 
moved just as he came up, so he watched it intently, used 
by this time to the tricks of the insect folk and deter- 


258 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

mined not to be fooled by their imitations of stones and 
twigs and things inanimate. 

And he was rewarded. A tiny beetle came swimming 
along when suddenly, just as the little fellow, reached 
the clump of weeds in which lay the queer looking stick, 
out shot a strange arm with a pair of pincers instead of 



HE SAW THE MOMSTER REPEAT H)S CATCH 


fingers at its end that caught the unwary beetle and 
dragged it back to open jaws. Peter now saw that the 
harmless looking “stick” was indeed no stick at all, but a 
living tenant of the pool and a cruel one at that. He 
gasped in horror as he saw the monster repeat his catch, 
and this time his prey was a wee grub of some sort that 
was floating idly along, heedless of the danger that lurked 
in the mud beneath him. 



IN MEADOWLAND 


259 

“Who on earth is that?” he asked. But before the 
Dragon Flies could answer him, the monster evidently 
became wary of his lair and decided to seek another 
one in some soft muddy spot on the bottom of the pool. 
Perhaps he was embarrassed by Peter’s curiosity. At 
any rate, he slowly rose up into the water and swam 
lazily along, swaying his great clumsy body from side to 
side until, with a quick spurt, he shot out from his tail a 
jet of water the force of which carried him suddenly 
far forward and out of the boy’s sight. 

“Do you know who that monster is?” he again de- 
manded of his companions. “It seems to me that he is 
a pretty dangerous creature to live near. You say that 
this pool used to be your home. Weren’t you afraid 
of him?” 

“Not exactly,” laughed the fliers. “We couldn’t very 
well be, you see, for we were all once just like him. He 
is a baby Dragon Fly and the larva you have been ask- 
ing about.” 


CXIX 

THE HUNGRY SHARK 

“Good gracious!” exclaimed the boy. “I can hardly 
believe it. Why, you don’t look a bit like him. Do you 
mean to tell me that you can live under the water, as he 
does? I should think that it would ruin your lovely 
wings.” 

“It certainly would,” said his friends, “now we 
make our home by the water, but not in it. But when we 
were like him, we had no wings or at least they were 
folded tightly within a tough pupa case, water-proof of 
course, so that they didn’t get wet and nothing could 
hurt them. We never needed them, you know, until we 
changed our state.” 

“There! I have heard insects say that before. Sir 
Butterfly did, if I remember correctly. Now, just what 
do they mean?” 


260 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


“Pooh! That is an easy question to answer and I 
shall do it myself,” announced Brother pompously. 
“That is what we call turning from one thing into some- 
thing that looks entirely different. For instance, once 
upon a time, and not so very long ago either, — I have 
only been a flier this summer, — I was a larva exactly 
like that fellow who has just swam off, and I lived for 
a whole year in the mud and weeds at the bottom of the 
pool. And I ate, oh, how I did eat! I have heard that 
the folks of the pool called me slow and clumsy behind 
my back, but believe me, they never said anything like 
that to my face. I would have gobbled them up. There 
were very few of them that could have gotten away 
from me if I had taken a fancy to dine on them. For 
if my body was slow, my jaws were not. I used to lie 
hidden in the weeds and as I was almost the same color 
as the mud, the water people, — silly things, — never even 
suspected that I was lying in wait for them. And when 
I saw a nice fat grub, all I had to do was to shoot out 
my long arm, seize my ppey with my sharp pincers 
and jerk it back. My mouth took care of the rest.” 

Peter could see, and very plainly, that the fellow, far 
from being a bit ashamed of the larva’s cruel habit, was 
really proud as Punch of it, so he did not tell him what 
he really thought of such a sly mean trick, and Brother 
was about to continue, when Dragon Fly Number One in- 
terrupted him: 

“But don’t think from what my Brother says that we 
larvae are always slow. We can move quick enough 
when we wish to, and how do you think we do it?” 

“I haven’t the least idea,” declared the boy, much 
interested. “I noticed the speed with which that chap 
got out of my sight and that is one of the things that I 
intended to ask you. What did make him shoot through 
the water all of a sudden?” 

“The spike on the end of his tail,” said his friend. 
“All the larvae have them. You see when we are larvae 
we have to breathe air just as much as we do when we are 
Dragon Flies. But of course it is far more difficult 


IN MEADOWLAND 


261 

under the water than on the land. So we have long tubes 
that go right through our bodies and end in five fine 
spikes at the end of our tails. And through these spikes 
and the tube the water goes in and out and we get all 
the air that there is in this water through our breathing 
pores. And when we want to get rid of the water that 
we have taken up into the tube, we spurt it out suddenly 
and speed through the water almost as fast as we now 
fly through the air. Only of course we can’t go nearly 
so far. Oh, we have fun in our larvae days, I can tell 
you ! It is great sport, pouncing at our prey from be- 
neath them, and pulling them down.” 

“Why, that is just the way a shark catches his prey,” 
said Peter thoughtfully. “I believe that I shall always 
think of a Dragon Fly larva as the shark of Insect- 
land! But don’t you ever get caught vourselves?” 

\ 

cxx 

THE STRUGGLE IN THE REEDS 

“Do we ever get caught?” exclaimed 1 the Dragon 
Flies in chorus. “Well, I should say we did. It is a 
continual struggle to keep out of the way of the water 
creatures, who would like nothing better than to dine 
on us. But of course we expect it. From the day we 
hatch ouT we know that it is ‘tit for tat,’ and we hide 
from those who are stronger than we are, who seek to 
do us harm, and attack those that are weaker and can- 
not harm us. That is the way we insects live. Might 
is right with us. It has to be, you know.” 

The boy was not paying much attention to what the 
fliers were saying. He was thinking. 

“But you spoke about having such fun in the water,” 
said he. “Why do you ever stop being larvae if you 
all like their life so much?” 

“Why, my dear Boy, we have ( t°-” exclaimed his 
friend, and the others joined in. 


262 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


“Of course we do. It is nothing that we have any 
will of our own about. We feel the urge to change our 
state and that is all there is to it!” they chorused. 

“After we have been larvae for a long time we change 
our coats — casting our skins we call it, — and after we 
have done this a number of times we become pupae and 
our cases become so clear that they look like glass and 
upon them our wing patterns begin to show. Then we 
know that the time is near for us to leave the pool. We 
lose our fierce appetities and begin to feel tired and half 
choked. We must have more air and we grow tired of 
the dark water and long to come out into the sun. So 
we look around for the stem of some tall weed whose 
top is above the water and up it we slowly crawl. With 
the tiny hooks upon our legs we cling to the stem and 
when we have crawled up high above the water we dig 
them into the stem, and then — but I am not going to tell 
you any more. Over there is the very chap who told me 
that he was going to cast his skin to-day.” 

Without more adieu the Dragon Fly started off past 
Peter and the boy followed him a short way down the 
bank; and there, on a clump of reeds that grew very near 
the shore, he beheld one of the strangest sights that he 
had ever seen. An insect was hanging between two 
stems with his legs grimly hooked into both; and as the 
boy arrived upon the scene he turned to look at him and 
Peter found himself gazing into a face that looked ex- 
actly like a pug dog’s. Its head was large and flat, its 
eyes were dull and its jaws were wicked-looking, and as 
the boy stared at him he noticed a queer underlip tucked 
away under his chin, and suddenly the fellow thrust it 
out straight at him and he recognized it at once for the 
prey-catching trap that he had heard about and was glad 
that he was no nearer the creature. 

“Cousin, this is a friend of the Dragon Flies, named 
Boy,” called Dragon Fly. The instant he heard this 
news the fellow pulled back his underlip and tucked it 
into place under his mask. 

“I am glad to meet you, Boy, I am sure, and you too, 


IN MEADOWLAND 


263 

Cousin Dragon Fly. But you have come at an incon- 
venient time. I am just ready to cast my skin and I 
can’t stop on any account. You know how that is, 
Cousin. So you will have to excuse me if I go right on.” 
“Certainly, but you don’t mind if I watch, do you?” 



AT LAST HE LET GO OF THE PUPA- CASE 


asked Peter eagerly. “I am so anxious to know how 
you do it. I will try not to make you nervous.” 

“Oh, you couldn’t do that,” said the Pupa and 
actually smiled. “Wish me luck, Cousin. When you 
next see my face I shall be like yourself. Here goes!” 

And “go” it certainly did. Suddenly he began to swing 
back and forth between the two stems, like a child in a 
swing, and before long the watchers heard a slight 
crackling sound and down the back split the pupa-case, — 
just the same way as Chinaman Caterpillar’s had done, 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


264 

— and there before Peter’s astonished eyes appeared an 
entirely different sort of an insect, — one with wings. 
And now the insect within the case began to turn and 
twist and stretch, and while the pupa-case held firmly by 
its hooked feet to the stem the insect gradually worked 
itself free from it, and little by little out came its head, 
its legs, its wings and its long slender body. 

Then, without any warning, over it toppled and hung 
limply attached in some mysterious fashion to the case. 
(As Dragon Fly explained to the boy he was held by the 
last ring on his body, and if he had not said that he was 
resting, completely tired out, Peter would have thought 
he was dead.) But in about fifteen minutes or so he 
began to move and at last, he let go of the pupa-case 
and caught hold of the stem with his new feet, and there 
he stood, shivering slightly as if a bit cold. 


CXXI 

A QUICK-CHANGE ARTIST 

“Hard work, this pulling oneself out of a pupa-case,” 
remarked Dragon Fly to Peter, and although he had not 
spoken at all loudly, the fellow who had just shed his 
covering heard him. 

“I should say it was,” said he in a faint voice. “You 
never know how hard until you have tried it. Just look 
at me! I feel as weak as a grub.” 

Certainly he did not seem much like the strong beau- 
tiful creature that the boy had thought to see. The 
newcomer’s colors were dull — not in the least like the 
lovely shades of which his friend could boast; his body 
was stumpy and wet; his eyes, which should have been 
so big and bright, were half-closed and dim; and as for 
wings, — Peter could not see that he had any at all. 

Evidently ithe poor fellow was aware of his own 
shortcomings, for he continued to bewail his lot. 


IN MEADOWLAND 


265 

“I have wanted to fly all my life. Way down at the 
bottom of the pool I used to dream about the days when 
I could sail over the fields and streams and see for my- 
self the sights that I have heard my flier relatives tell 
about, and now what sort of wings have I got? They 
are soft and soppy and they bend every which way when 
I try to move them. How far do you think I could go 
with them? Why, I couldn’t even mount into the air, 
to say nothing of flying! And as for my thousand eyes, 
— what earthly good are they? I might just as well 
have only one, for all I can see. Even your forms are 
blurred. I should like to bet you, too, that those colors 
of which I was going to be so proud are not pretty at 
all. I am a miserable failure, — that’s what I am, — a 
perfect disgrace to the Dragon Fly family!” 

Peter felt dreadfully sorry for the poor thing and 
was about to offer him his sympathy, when the elder 
Dragon Fly laughed. The boy would have thought him 
a mighty cruel chap to make light of the misfortune of 
his new cousin had not he spoken at that moment. And 
what he said threw an entirely different light upon the 
subject. 

“Now see here, young fellow,” chuckled he. “Stop 
worrying about what you are going to look like and 
how you are going to fly, and take my word for it that 
you are going to be just as beautiful as I am, — and I 
am considered a handsome chap, I’ll have you know, — 
and every bit as powerful, too. As for flying, — why 
your dips and soars will be quite as fineGs any of your 
cousins’. Give the sun a chance, fellow. Stand still 
on that reed, stretch out your wings wide and see what 
will happen. Take care, there! Don’t be in such a 
hurry. Move more slowly and be sure that your wings 
do not hit the stalk or leaves. That might bend them 
out of shape. Fine! That is the way! Now you will 
be all right in the waving of an antenna.” 

Dragon Fly’s lecture encouraged the young flier and 
he balanced himself carefully upon the top of the reed. 
The bright sun shone upon him and the breezes wafted 


266 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


about him and then, right before Peter’s astonished 
eyes, a miracle took place. 

The little insect quivered and the boy wondered if he 
could be cold, coming so lately into the open air. Then 
slowly the wings began to unfold and the body to stretch 
out to its full and proper length. Bright and sparkling 
became the eyes — now half-closed no longer, — and as 
the boy watched him, fascinated, he could hardly believe 
the evidence of his own eyesight when suddenly the dull 
mist that had seemed to surround the fellow cleared 
away as if by magic, and there before him on the reed 
stood a Dragon Fly on whose body and wings red and 
blue and green and gold were so brilliantly blended that 
the beauty of it made the boy catch his breath in sheer 
delight. 


CXXII 

A BOASTFUL CHALLENGE 

“My, but you are lovely now,” breathed the boy, de- 
lighted, and Dragon Fly heartily agreed with him. The 
new flier was greatly pleased with their admiration but 
very modest about it all. 

“It is very kind of you both to say so,” said he. “You 
really have no idea how your words relieve my mind. 
There for a while I was sure that I was going to be 
sorry that I was ever born. You certainly did cheer me 
up a lot, Cousin. Flonestly if it had not been for what 
you said I don’t believe that I would ever have had the 
courage to pump the air into my wings!” 

“Oh, yes, you would,” laughed Dragon Fly. “You 
would have felt the urge and then you couldn’t have 
helped it. Perhaps I did cheer you up a bit, but you 
would have gotten along quite as well without me. Now 
that it is all over I don’t mind telling you that every 
single one of us is born in exactly the same way and 
with the same doubts. We all look just as homely and 
feel just as badly as you did. But when we have gotten 


IN MEADOWLAND 


267 

into shape we forget all about it until we come across 
some one about to come out of his pupa-case, and then we 
remember our own old troubles and try to help him 
along if we can. I see that you are still pumping the 
blood into your wings. How do they feel now?” 

u Oh, very much better, thank you,” answered his 
cousin in a voice almost as strong as his own. “They 
are becoming quite dry and firm. Before long I am go- 
ing to try them out. Only, ” 

At this juncture the boy forgot his manners and broke 
in upon the young flier’s remark. 

“Will one of you please tell me just what you meant 
by pumping the air and blood into the wings? I never 
heard of such a thing. I didn’t know that wings had 
air and blood in them. What do you pump with and 
why do you do it?” 

“Two very sensible questions, I say,” remarked 
Dragon Fly. “I can readily understand why, not being 
one of the family, you should be puzzled. Have you 
looked closely at our wings? No? Well, do so now 
and you will see that they are as thin as can be and yet 
as firm as we need them to sail the skies, for they are 
double and the gauzy part is spread over a fine frame- 
work.” 

“So it is,” said the boy as he examined the network 
of lines that Dragon Fly was pointing out in the wings 
of his cousin. “Somehow it reminds me of a kite. That 
flies too, you know, only it is made of paper and sticks 
and string.” 

“This fine framework is hollow,” continued Dragon Fly 
“When Cousin quivered a moment ago he was pumping 
air and blood into those tiny tubes. Every time he does 
this, — see there he goes again, — the tubes fill out and 
the gauzy covering stretches with them until at last the 
wings are strong and firm, as mine are now.” Dragon 
Fly slowly waved his own to illustrate the point. 

“Brrrr,” exclaimed the young Dragon Fly suddenly 
and shivered. “I am awfully cold, Cousin, aren’t you? 
I do wish that the an would get stronger.” 


268 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


“Why, it is as warm as can be,” declared Peter mop- 
ping his face with a handkerchief that had become as 
tiny in proportion as he was, himself. “I was just go- 
ing to suggest that we move over into the shade.” 

The elder Dragon Fly smiled. 

“This young cousin of mine is cold because he has not 
yet been active enough to get his blood into good circu- 
lation. He will get over being chilly after he has flown 
about for a while. But I must confess that while I am 
not actually cold, I am none too warm myself. The 
day can never be too warm for me. I can do my fastest 
flying when the rays of the sun are the hottest. My 
happiest hours are those I spend in the bright sunlight, 
while you have just said that you prefer the shade. I 
seek shelter only when it is cloudy and I fear it will rain — 
(for if there is one thing that I hate it is to get my wings 
wet), — or when I am tired and wish to sleep and that is 
generally not until the sun goes down at the close of 
day.” 

“Say, Cousin,” exclaimed the young Dragon Fly at 
this moment. “Do you know I haven’t had a blessed 
thing to eat since I came out of my case? I am almost 
starved, just as hungry as I used to be when I lived in 
the pool. Of course I had much rather be a flier, but 
in the good old days I never had the least bit of trouble 
in catching my prey. One snap of my jaws and my meal 
was in my mouth. Do you think, now that I am out of 
the water, that I shall ever be able to get enough to 
eat?” 


CXXIII 

COACHING HIS COUSIN 

“That depends entirely upon yourself, young fellow,” 
answered his elder cousin. “1 do not look ill-fed, do I? 
There are just as many insects in the air as there are 
in the pool and if you are quick enough you will catch 
your share. But talking about eats always makes me 


IN MEADOWLAND 


269 

ravenous. I will start you on your first chase in the 
Happy Hunting Grounds, if our guest here will excuse 
us for a time. By the way, Boy, how about bringing 
you back a nice butterfly for your luncheon? It will be 
a tasty morsel for you and it will not be a bit of trouble 
as far as I am concerned. Or perhaps you would rather 
have a juicy fly, would you?” 

“Oh, no,” said Peter hurriedly. “Thank you very 
much indeed for thinking of me, but while no doubt either 
of them would be delicious I really do not feel the need 
of anything. Besides, I am not eating much fresh meat 
these days. Fruits and vegetables are really more in my 
line just at present. Don’t bother about me. I am 
going to sit right down here by the pool and perhaps 
I shall take a nap. The sun makes me sleepy.” 

Much pleased at the boy’s decision, Dragon Fly de- 
cided that it was time for him to turn his attention to his 
young cousin. He took his station upon a blade of grass 
and started to coach the impatient insect. 

“Watch me mount, young fellow, and do just as I 
do,” said he. “You have had plenty of rest now. It is 
quite a while since you came out of your case and it is 
high time that you put something in your stomach. You 
can never grow with an empty one, you know. It is not 
at all breezy now either, and it is always easier to fly 
when it is calm. Are you ready?” 

“You just bet I am!” cried the young one in his eager- 
ness to prove his power and forgetting all about the 
strained side. 

“Well then, climb up on that blade of grass near you 
and open your wings so. Slowly, slowly. Fine! Now 
rise into the air. Take your time. There is no hurry. 
That is right. Now glide. Here, don’t flap about like 
that. Good! Now we are off. Sail smoothly and don’t 
try to rise too high at first. Great, I knew you could 
do it! Some day you will be a mighty hunter, my son. 
You have the jaws and the wings. So long, Boy, here 
we go.” 

“Good-by! Good luck until I see you again,” cried 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


270 

Peter, waving his cap in a cheery farewell. He shaded 
his eyes with his hand and watched the elder fly coaching 
his younger cousin. At first the latter’s course was de- 
cidedly uneven. Evidently he was not yet accustomed 
to his wings. But gradually he mounted higher and 
higher. His flight grew less faltering and at last, wing 
to wing with the other insect he flew off into the -dis- 
tance. Peter gazed after them until they had become 
two black specks in the deep blue of the sky. Then, 
being very tired, he sat down in a shady place by the 
pool. 

His eyes ached from straining them in the bright sun, 
so he tilted his cap over them as a shade. Feeling a bit 
lonely, he decided to take a nap while waiting for his 
friends’ return, but just as he was dosing off he remem- 
bered something. 

“After all, Dragon Fly flew away without telling me 
one of the things which I was most anxious to know,” 
he said to himself. At least he thought he had said it 
to himself, but he must have spoken aloud for some one 
answered him. 

“Perhaps I can relieve your curiosity,” said a pleasant 
voice. “What was it?” 

Peter had no idea that any one was near him, there 
certainly had not been when he sat down, and the words 
were so unexpected that he jumped in spite of himself 
and in doing so shook the cap from off his eyes into the 
water. Before he could dive after it, it had floated away 
and caught in the reeds a short distance from the bank. 

“That is too bad,” said the same voice sympathetically. 
“Even though I never wear anything at all on my head — 
I can’t see the sense in it myself — I am sorry to have 
made you lose your case.” 

Peter laughed at this remark in spite of the fact that 
he didn’t wish to lose his cap. 

“That is the very first time I have ever heard it called 
a ‘case,’ ” said he. “That is a cap — a hat — you know.” 

“How should I know?” asked the voice. “Didn’t I 
just tell you that I never wear one? But what difference 


IN MEADOWLAND 


271 

does it make what you call it? It really is like part of a 
pupa-case, — the part that goes over one’s head. Have 
you never seen one?” 


CXXIV 

THE CHILD OF A DAY 

“No,” said the boy, looking about for the mysterious 
speaKer. “At least only from a distance and then it was 
on an insect, — I mean that an insect — a Dragon Fly — 
was getting out of it.” 

“Then I bet that is the very coffin that is hanging on 
that reed near you. I heard that one of the Dragon 
Flies was coming out to-day, but I didn’t get here in 
time to see him.” 

“A coffin!” exclaimed the boy. “Now, what in the 
world do you mean by that?” 

“Just what I say. That is what we insects call an 
empty shell after the body has left it,” continued his 
unseen informant. “If you will look around you can 
see it for yourself.” 

Look Peter did and there sure enough, hanging be- 
tween the reeds just as he had left it, was the very same 
pupa-case out of which the young Dragon Fly had burst 
so short a time ago. The boy recognized it at once, 
for it was exactly the same shape as the fellow’s old 
self. 

“I am so glad that you called my attention to that!” 
cried he. “I wouldn’t have missed seeing it for anything. 
I have often found things like that in different places and 
never knew what they were. Coffin is a queer name for 
it, though. I like case better, I think. But who are you, 
anyway, and where are you hidden? We have been 
talking for some time and I have not had a peep at you 
yet. You must introduce yourself to me. You owe 
me that much at least, for it was your fault that I lost 
my cap.” 

“Don’t worry about a little thing like that,” said the 


272 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


voice calmly. “If I helped you lose it, I can also help 
you find it. I have plenty of friends in the pool who 
will lend a hand if I ask them. I am not hiding at all. 
You can’t see me just because you are not looking in 
the right place. I am in full view right above your 
head. I have no time to waste in keeping still — and of 
course to hide properly one could not move about much, 
— I must fly all the time or I will not get the worth of 
my day of life. Look up in the sky. Here I am, above 
your head. Do you see me now?” 

“I see something that shines like silver in the sun, that 
spins about in the air, rising and falling like a dancing 
butterfly,” replied Peter. 

“That’s I,” cried the voice, and it sounded immensely 
pleased. “You have described me exactly. I don’t want 
to keep still. Perhaps I shall for a moment, though, so' 
that you may see me the better, but only for a moment. 
I have not long to play and I must make the most of 
it. It is a good thing that it is a sunny day. What a 
shame it would be for me to have lived out my short 
life on a day it rained!” 

“That is the second time that you have said that,” 
declared the boy. “What do you mean by your day of 
life? Do tell me who you are!” 

“I am the Child of a Day,” replied the fluttering in- 
sect, dancing as gayly as ever. “Almost every one, how- 
ever, calls me May Fly. Don’t think for a second, 
though, that I feel at all sad about it. No, indeed, I have 
no time to be sad, my time to be glad is all too short, but 
I live only for one day, you know — that is as a May Fly. 
Of course, I am really two years old now, but I spend all 
that period as a larva and a pupa. I became a May Fly 
this very morning and I dance all day until I have taken 
all the joy into my heart that the heart of a May Fly can 
hold. To-night, just as the sun goes down I shall rise 
high in the air and then fall down to sleep in the grass, 
only I shall never wake up again.” 

“Do you mean that you will be dead?” asked Peter 
sadly. 


IN MEADOWLAND 


273 

“Well, if you wish to call it that,” answered the silvery 
sprite. “I suppose that is the right name for it, only I 
like to say that I fall asleep. It sounds much prettier, 
don’t you think so?” 

“3 es,” said Peter thoughtfully. “I think it does. 
Only it does seem too bad that you have such a little 
time to enjoy things. I wish that your life was longer. 
Surely you can’t do all that you would like to in a day!” 

cxxv 

MAY FLY KEEPS HER WORD 

“Now don’t you worry a bit about that,” replied May 
Fly quickly. “I am perfectly content with my lot. In 
fact, I think that it is a fine way to live and to die. I 
never know a second’s sorrow, you see. I am always 
happy, and when I am the happiest I fall asleep. But 
why don’t you ask me that question? I believe that I 
can answer it quite as well as Dragon Fly, for I am his 
first cousin, you know.” 

“Oh, are you?” asked the boy eagerly, “then, of course, 
you can, for no doubt your families have the same habits. 
I am very curious to know how the larva of the Dragon 
Fly gets into the pool. Don’t the fliers lay the eggs 
and don’t they live in the air?” 

“Of course they do,” chuckled May Fly. “But because 
Mother Dragon Fly flies over the fields is no reason 
why she may not fly over the water, too. And that is 
exactly what she does; and while she is doing it, into the 
pool she drops her eggs. They are in tiny water-proof 
cases and they fall into the mud at the bottom or upon 
stems of plants where they are safe from the hungry 
tenants of the pool. There, dry and warm, they stay 
until after a while out hatch the larvae. Soon these larvae 
become pupae and finally, when the appointed time has 
come, up the stems crawl the pupae and burst out of their 
cases Dragon Flies, and they all do it in just the same 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


274 

way as the fellow you saw a while ago. Does that an- 
swer your question?” 

“Well, I should say it did,” answered the boy. “Do 
you know, it is one of the most wonderful things I have 
ever heard of! Did your mother lay her eggs in that 
way, too?” 

“She certainly did,” answered his new acquaintance, 
“and as I am a lady May Fly myself that is just what I 
must do before I fall asleep. But in the meantime I 
suppose that you are rather anxious to get your funny 
case from out of those reeds. I know a gentleman who 
lives near that clump. I will fly over his home and talk 
to him a bit, and I should not be in the least bit sur- 
prised if he brought it right here to you. He is a kind- 
hearted chap, for all that he looks so fierce. I know all 
about it, for during my water days I used to live close 
by him.” 

May Fly showed that she was an insect of her word, 
for without wasting any more time in talking she said: 
“Excuse me, please,” to Peter and flew across the water 
towards the reeds, over which she swirled and dipped 
as dizzily as before. The boy was sure that she was 
speaking to some one, although what she said he could 
not hear. He sat patiently waiting for her to return 
and so interested in admiring the shiny splendor of her 
wings that he paid little attention to what was taking 
place in the pool. Had he been looking at the water 
he would have noticed a number of tiny ripples appear 
rather suddenly near the reeds and then gradually roll 
nearer and nearer to the bank on which he rested. 

So he was very much surprised to hear some one say: 

“I wonder if you would mind taking your case off my 
head. I am glad that I was able to be of service to you, 
but I will admit that it would be rather uncomfortable 
to have to carry it about for long!” 

The voice came from the direction of his feet and 
had a queer sort of a smothered sound, and the boy 
quickly looked down. Not a soul was in sight; but there, 
right beneath the bank on which he sat, was his cap. It 


IN MEADOWLAND 


2 75 

was swayed slightly by the rippling water, but it remained 
right there, and Peter was astonished, for he remem- 
bered how swiftly it had floated away when it had first 
fallen into the pool. He bent over to seize it, but almost 
let it fall again when he saw, peering up from under 
its brim a queer wrinkled green face, that as he looked 
at it seemed to turn over and rest on one side in the 
water. 


CXXVI 

peter’s cap comes back 

“Good afternoon, Sir,” said the strange creature anx- 
iously. “I hope that you find your case quite unharmed. 
I tried to be as careful with it as I could, but I had 
quite a time pulling it away from the reeds. It was 
caught fast among their stems.” 

“My case — oh, you mean my cap! It is just as good 
as ever it was,” said the boy, “and I am certainly a 
hundred times obliged to you for bringing it back to me. 
You must be the gentleman of whom May Fly was speak- 
ing. She said that a friend of hers might help her to 
return it, but she quite forgot to tell me your name. It 
was mighty good of you and I should very much like to 
know whom I am thanking.” 

“I am known to my friends of the pool as Mr. Great 
Water-Beetle,” replied the fellow. “Exactly why they 
call me that I do not know, unless it is because of my 
size, for I believe that I am the largest beetle in these 
parts. But I am great in no other way. I do not like 
to fight and I have never been able to coax up an ap- 
petite for insects smaller than myself, — I prefer a diet 
of leaves and grasses, — and since I am such a vegetarian, 
I am no hunter and I cannot even swim very well. My 
legs are not particularly powerful and so I had rather 
float about than force my way through the water, and I 
spend a lot of my time clinging to the stems in the pool. 
So you see, I have no claim to greatness at all, or so my 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


276 

cousin Brown Water-Beetle tells me; and he is very 
jealous indeed of my name and often tries to attack and 
kill me because of it, for he thinks if I were out of the 
way he would be the Great Water-Beetle. I am sure I 
do not care what people call me and I can’t help being 
two inches long, now can I?” 

“Of course you can’t, Mr. Great Water-Beetle, and 
it just shows what a nasty disposition your cousin Brown 
Water-Beetle has, to make you suffer for it,” said Peter 
indignantly. 

“S-sh, don’t mention any names I beg of you,” pleaded 
his new friend, peering fearfully about with the eyes 
that were under the water. “If he heard you make a 
remark like that he would know that I must have told 
you something and he would be frightfully angry at me 
and would lurk in hiding somewhere in the mud and 
jump upon me before I could get out of his way; and as 
my wife is just about to spin her cocoons it would be a 
sad time for her to be left a widow.” 

“Well, why don’t you fight him then?” asked the boy. 
“If you are larger than he is surely you could get the best 
of him, couldn’t you?” 

“Perhaps I could if I once tried,” said the fellow. “But 
for a Water-Beetle I have such an unfortunate disposi- 
tion. I am too peaceful — there is nothing that I hate 
more than I do a scrap. Why, I cannot even bear to 
see any of the little insects hurt or killed. I always 
close my eyes when I see the Despot make a catch.” 

“Now, who is the Despot?” asked the boy. “Do you 
mean your cousin? Or could it be Dragon Fly larva? 
He is known as the Monster of the Pool, isn’t he?” 

“You guessed right the first time, Sir,” replied Mr. 
Great Water-Beetle. “I am sorry to confess that it is 
my own cousin who rules the water with such cruelty, 
but sometimes his reign is almost disputed by Dragon 
Fly larva. It is hard to tell which is the more wicked. 
Between them the rest of us are kept in terror of our 
lives most of the time.” 

As he made this last remark, Great Water-Beetle 


IN MEADOWLAND 


277 

turned away over upon his side and bent his head. The 
boy thought he noticed a little opening between his head 
and shoulders. Before he had a chance to say anything 
about it the fellow curved one of his antennas over it 
like a tiny tube. 

“Doesn’t this make a fine funnel?” asked the fellow. 
“Watch how I suck the air down through it until the 
under surface of my body is covered with air.” 

The boy gazed in amazement at the silvery band that 
had formed about the beetle’s body. 

“Can that be air?” he exclaimed. “How pretty your 
coat looks now! But how do you do it and why?” 

Great Water-Beetle laughed. 

“I just told you how,” said he, — “and since the water 
has not enough air in it .to keep us water dwellers in good 
health, we have to go to the top of the pool every now 
and again for a good deep breath. Instead of bobbing 
up all the time, we supply ourselves with enough to last 
us for quite a while. When we find that it is growing 
stale we rise again to the surface, let our old bubbles 
burst and breathe in more fresh air, then down we dive 
again. By the way, unless my eyes deceive me, something 
is hanging on that tall stalk of grass right behind you. 
What is it, May Fly?” 

“Oh, that is only my old overcoat,” said that insect 
carelessly. Then she lowered her voice mysteriously. 
“It is said that at night, after we May Flies go to sleep, 
our old overcoats become alive, — that they fly up and 
dance in the air.” 


CXXVII 

MAY FLY GHOSTS 

“Now, May Fly, that is rank nonsense and you know 
it,” said a voice that the boy had not heard before. “I 
must say I am ashamed of you for stuffing a stranger’s 
head with any tale so foolish. And I am as much sur- 
prised at you listening to it, husband.” 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


278 

Peter now saw for the first time a second large beetle 
floating by the first one’s side and he wondered how long 
she had been there. Mr. Great Water-Beetle, however, 
didn’t seem the least bit excited and answered his wife 
quite calmly. 

“Now there, Wifie,” said he. “How often have I told 
you not to get all worked up over anything, especially 
when you have to work so hard as you are doing to-day! 
How do we know it is not true? We seldom go out 
of the pool in the day-time, it is true, but you and I 
both know that many wonderful things happen in the 
great out-of-doors. We have seen many a strange sight 
in our flies by night, things that we would never even 
have dreamed of had we stayed underneath the water all 
our lives.” 

“Very true,” agreed his spouse, “but we never saw the 
May Fly overcoats flying, did we?” 

“No, I can’t say that we ever did, but we are not 
the only two insects in the world, and we can’t judge 
what happens by what we see. I confess that, while I 
don’t really know anything about it, I shouldn’t care to 
go too near a May Fly overcoat after dark.” 

“You are a big silly thing,” snapped his wife. “I don’t 
believe that an overcoat moves once after a Mayfly drops 
it unless, to be sure, the winds blow it away. And if 
any insect is going to be stupid enough to be afraid of 
anything that the wind may blow about, then I have 
nothing more to say. However, I am wasting time talk- 
ing, now, and I have none to waste — if you have. I 
am glad to see you, May Fly, though, and dreadfully 
sorry to know that we are going to lose you, for, of 
course, that is what your flight from the pool means. We 
have had some pleasant times together, we three, haven’t 
we? But there is no use in worrying over lost bubbles, as 
we beetles say. For goodness knows how long I may 
live, and if my time should come before I had laid my 
eggs, how terrible that would be ! How about your eggs, 
May Fly? You are not forgetting your duty, I hope.” 
“No, indeed, Mrs. Great Water-Beetle,” said May 


IN MEADOWLAND 279 

Fly quickly. “I dropped them into the pool when I went 
over to speak to your husband. And I have enjoyed 
visiting with him so much.” 

“Everybody does,” said Mrs. Water-Beetle, a little 
crossly, Peter thought. “That is one thing at which he 
excels, — visiting. I do the work for the family. How- 
ever, of course that is the way things are arranged in our 
tribe. We women work while the males have a good 
time. After all, he is a good sort, aren’t you, my dear?” 


CXXVIII 

FIFTY EGGS IN ONE BAG 

“I am sure I hope so, Wifie,” said Mr. Great Water- 
Beetle modestly, and evidently rather embarrassed at 
the turn the conversation had taken. “But I don’t 
believe that these people are interested in our family 
affairs, do you?” 

“I am sure I don’t know,” said his wife, “and truth to 
tell I don’t much care. They needn’t listen to what 
we are saying, you know. But I don’t intend to say much 
more. I am going to get busy and spin my cradles. 
Good-by, May Fly, and a pleasant sleep. You always 
were a good friend, I will say that for you. I doubt 
if I shall ever become so fond of any of your relatives 
again.” 

“Oh, yes, you will,” laughed the merry flier. “All our 
family are much alike, you know. All day I have found 
it difficult myself to tell one of my family from the 
other.” 

“I don’t believe that there will be any more like you,” 
declared Mrs. Great Water-Beetle, “say what you will. 
Although I dare say that when I get back to the reeds 
I shall find some one in your place.” 

“I wouldn’t wonder a bit,” agreed May Fly, “and 
there are a lot of us coming out to-morrow, only I shall 


280 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

not be here to see them. Never mind, I’ve had my share 
of fun.” 

Peter thought that Mr. and Mrs. Great Water-Beetle 
looked very sad, but neither of them made any reply 
to this, and Mrs. Great Water-Beetle flopped over on 
her back. 

“Excuse me, Boy,” said she. “I am delighted to have 
seen you and I hope that we meet again, but I have 
just this instant discovered a weed to which I can cling. 
It must have floated near me for some time, but I never 
noticed it and as it is exactly what I have been looking 
for I cannot let it get past me. I shall have to lay those 
eggs and then my mind will rest easily. I will try to 
hurry, husband, and when I have finished, and have 
rested a while, we can go for a swim together.” 

As she talked, the energetic little creature caught hold 
of a bit of weed that floated near her and clung to it 
with her hind feet and then, without further ado, she 
set going the little spinning machine, which, like the 
spider, she carried in the back of her body. Before 
long she had woven quite a bit of silk, which she fash- 
ioned with her fore-feet into a dainty cocoon. 

“It doesn’t take long after one once gets started,” she 
continued in answer to Peter’s exclamation of astonish- 
ment. “There now, I am all ready to lay my eggs, — I 
think that there will be about fifty of them to-day.” 

“Do you mean to say that you lay as many as that 
in that tiny bag?” questioned the boy in amazement. 

“Of course she does, and sometimes more,” answered 
her husband, seeing that Mrs. Great Water-Beetle was 
now too busy to speak for herself. “My wife is a very 
smart woman, I can tell you.” 

“Stuff and nonsense,” said Mrs. Beetle at this point. 
“You may think I am clever, my dear, but it is probable 
that no one else does. There now, I have finished that 
job, and it is just as I thought! There are fifty pointed 
eggs, all ready to be sealed up.” 

“How on earth do you seal them up?” asked the boy. 
“I am dying to know.” 


IN MEADOWLAND 


281 

“You will not have to die,” said Mrs. Beetle quickly. 
“All you have to do is to watch me. See, I close the 
mouth of the bag with a strand of silk, and I make sure 
that it holds it tightly, for my precious eggs must not get 
wet. And I have taken care to fill it with air, too, so that 
it shall float.” 


CXXIX 

THE FLOATING CRADLE 

“I tell you, when there is something which must be 
done, it pays to get to work and finish the job. My 
boat is quite finished, my eggs laid and I am all ready to 
send the cradle afloat. It is a well-balanced one too, if 
I do say it myself. Here, husband, help me break the 
silk, will you? I am a little weary of lying on my back, 
and besides I feel like taking a fresh drink of air.” 

Mr. Great Water-Beetle rushed to his wife’s aid and in 
a twinkling of an eye between them they loosed the tiny 
bark, which, with its precious freight, drifted slowly off 
across the pool. Peter watched it as it sailed along 
and he more than half expected to see it capsize any mo- 
ment. But on it floated, as steady and upright as a little 
boat could be. He felt that he must tell Mrs. Water- 
Beetle of his admiration. 

“You are wonderfully clever to have made a thing like 
that in so short a time,” said he. “Really, in all the 
while that I have been in Insect-land 1 have never seen 
anything that I think was more remarkable. I agree with 
your husband, Mrs. Great Water-Beetle, you are an ex- 
ceptionally smart little lady and one he can well be proud 
of.” 

“Of course I appreciate your saying so,” said- Mrs. 
Beetle smiling modestly, “but I did nothing more than 
any other mother in our family, and I doubt if my work 
is as good as some of theirs. But now that I see that 
you are so much interested in our ways, I just wish 


282 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


that you could see our children. They are wonderful 
little beings, aren’t they, dear?” 

“I should say they were,” said her husband. “There 
are no children to compare with them in all the pool. 
They have one bad fault, though, and we have never 
been able to think where they inherited it. They are 
fierce and a bit cruel and not at all like their parents, 
as far as their appetites are concerned. Why, would 
you believe me, they are not at all content to dine on 
grass and weeds as we do, but they must catch all the 
insects that they can find, and if they cannot get enough 
of other kinds and they are very hungry they even eat 
each other, sometimes! Horrible, isn’t it? I don’t won- 
der that you shudder. It makes me feel queer, too.” 

“Well, of all things, husband, to tell tales like that 
about your very own children! I am ashamed of you. 
What will Boy think?” 

“It is all true, now isn’t it, wife?” asked her better 
half. “Our guest would find it out for himself later on, 
without doubt, and then he might blame us for not train- 
ing them better. I think that it’s better we tell him that 
we do the best we can and do not at all approve of their 
habits.” 

“Well, we may not approve of them now that we are 
full-grown parent beetles,” snapped the mother, “but we 
may as well tell the whole truth about the matter and 
own up that when we were grubs we did exactly the 
same things. As for myself, I think it is silly to be 
shocked by it at this time of our lives. Grubs will be 
grubs, you know!” 


cxxx 

THE BULLY RECEIVES A SCARE 

Suddenly Mother Great Wlater-Beetle’s manner 
changed. In a scared tone she cried: 

“Quick, husband, save me! Here comes the Despot. 


IN MEADOWLAND 


283 

See how the little people are fleeing before him! What 
shall we do? We are far away from home and in the 
open water. He will attack us, I am sure, and if he 
should make an end of you what would become of me? 
Oh dear, oh dear, I feel that something terrible is about 
to happen.” 

“Now wife, don’t get nervous,” soothed her husband; 
but the boy could tell by his tone that he too was a bit 
frightened. “I don’t think that there is any danger. 
We will keep out of his way as well as we can; and since 
it is a good deal more trouble to catch and devour us 
because we are so large — larger than he is really — I do 
not believe that he will bother us. He will go after 
smaller and easier prey.” 

“I don’t trust him,” wailed his wife. “I am sure that 
size makes no difference to him. He knows that we are 
not fighters and that he could easily overpower us. Don’t 
you remember how he and his brother got into a fierce 
fight last week and how he conquered the other and then 
ate him up? Horrible! He is coming nearer and nearer. 
Where shall we go? What shall we do?” 

“Could you hide under my hat?” asked Peter sud- 
denly. “He is swimming towards us but I don’t believe 
that he has seen you yet. I can drop it down over you if 
you think it will do any good. Swim closer together and 
be sure not to make ripples if you can help it. They 
might give you away. There, that is fine!” 

He leaned over and carefully dropped his cap over the 
cowering beetles. He was just in time for, as he straight- 
ened himself and looked over the pool he saw swimming 
swiftly towards them a large beetle. 

“This fellow looks as if nothing ever escaped his eye 
or his mouth either,” said Peter under his breath. “I 
wonder if he noticed what I was doing.” 

Evidently the newcomer had not, for he swam slowly 
around the cap, and luckily for his cousins made no at- 
tempt to dive. Peter realized that he himself had not 
been seen and he resolved to teach the bully a lesson. 

“Keep your distance, Despot of the Pool, or you may 


284 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

be sorry!” commanded he in as loud a voice as he could 
muster. 

For at least once in his life the Despot himself was 
frightened and shot out towards the middle of the pool, 
where believing himself out of danger he stopped and 



AMD IT WAS JUST ) H TIME.TOO 


looked fearfully about for the speaker. In a voice that 
shook a little he asked: 

“Who are you and where are you and why do you 
speak to me so? Are you a fish or a frog or a mighty 
flier, or can’t you come into the water at all?” 

“Of course, I can, and easily, and I can swim as well 
as you can and dive as deep. One of these fine days I 
am going to catch you, if you don’t leave my friends alone. 
I like all the tenants of the pool, but I am very fond of 


IN MEADOWLAND 


285 

your cousins the Great Water-Beetles,” continued the 
boy. Much to his surprise Brown Water-Beetle replied: 

“So am I and I would never think of chasing them if 
they didn’t start to flee the very minute they catch sight 
of me. To tell the truth I believe they could beat me in 
a scrap if they would ever face me. But do tell me who 
you are, — a very great insect I have no doubt and one I 
should not care to have as an enemy. What can I do to 
become a friend of yours?” 

“Show that you are a beetle of your word and stop 
annoying insects smaller than yourself. And to prove 
that you can keep a promise swim slowly around this 
pool, keeping close to the shore and without once looking 
back. I shall be watching you and if you play fair I will 
make myself known when you return,” replied Peter. 


CXXXI 

TRICKED ! 

Before he had finished speaking, Brown Water-Beetle 
had started on his way, slowly but steadily lengthening 
the distance between them. As soon as Peter was sure 
that he was far enough away so that he could neither 
hear nor see what was going on, he leaned over and un- 
covered the two Great Water-Beetles. They had been 
lying on their sides but now they both flopped over, pre- 
paratory to diving beneath the water. They smiled up 
happily at the boy. 

“That was perfectly fine of you, Boy,” said Mr. Beetle 
gratefully. “You certainly saved us from an unknown 
fate and perhaps our cousin will remember what you said 
and will hereafter leave us unmolested.” 

“Yes,” chimed in his wife, “and even though Brown 
Water-Beetle succeeds in doing us no harm, we might as 
well be killed as scared to death, you know. We are 
ashamed of ourselves, but in spite of what we heard 


286 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

Brown Water-Beetle say, we are still afraid of him and 
I think that we had better go while the going is good. 
Come husband, hurry. Good-by, Boy. Thanks for all 
that you have done for us, — some day perhaps we may 
repay you.” 

With these words, down dove Mrs. Great Water- 
Beetle; and giving a farewell wave of his feelers, after 
his gossipy wife followed the husband, and no sooner had 
the water closed over them than close to the shore ap- 
peared a swimmer that from his steady strong strokes 
Peter knew at once to be Brown Water-Beetle himself. 
Slowly he rowed himself along and the boy could hear 
him muttering: 

“Now, isn’t that the queerest thing! Where can that 
strange thing be? I am sure that it was floating right 
beneath that blue lily on the bank. And the voice came 
from right near it. Its owner promised to wait for me. 
Where can he be?” 

Peter chuckled at his bewilderment and then he spoke : 

“Right here,” said he. “Turn and come in very close 
to the shore and up on the bank you will see me, — a two- 
legged object but little larger than yourself, Boy by 
name.” 

“Good fish!” exclaimed the beetle gazing at him. “A 
Human and I am to be your friend! It is the most won- 
derful thing that has ever happened to me. But I always 
was lucky. I am more than glad to make your acquaint- 
ance, Sir.” 

“Thanks,” returned Peter, “and I yours. Pardon my 
curiosity, but are you wearing a suit of armor? Your 
coat looks as if it was very hard and heavy.” 

“So indeed it is,” declared the beetle, “and it has need 
to be if it is to protect me against the enemies that lurk 
in the pool. I feel perfectly safe inside of it and fear 
none of them. Why, I can even scare a frog out of the 
little wits he has, and you know how larp-e he is.” 

Peter thought that the fellow was boasting, so he re- 
joined: 

“Then he must be very stupid indeed to be afraid of 


IN MEADOWLAND 287 

any one so much smaller than he is. I am afraid that I 
cannot quite believe that.” 

“It is perfectly true,” declared Brown Beetle. “I just 
drop into the water with a loud splash, like a stone. Old 
Green-Coat sits on a log with his big eyes staring out 



50HEBEVER 5EE5 ME UHT1L 1 FALL 
KETR- BOOM " 


over the water, but he never thinks to look up into the 
sky and so of course he never has an idea that I am 
coming until I fall ‘ker-boom’ right at his side. Then 
off he dives from the log in a hurry. It is great fun to 
joggle him off his comfortable seat like that.” 

“It must be,” agreed the boy, laughing at this descrip- 
tion of the clumsy old frog. “But how do you get into 
the air? I thought that you were a water dweller.” 



288 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


CXXXII 

BY THE LIGHT OF THE MOON 

Brown Beetle looked surprised at Peter’s ignorance. 

“Of course I am a dweller of the pool, but like your- 
self I am able to go about where I please and to do many 
things. You are a land animal, now aren’t you? — and 
yet you say that you can swim in the pool and I am a 
pool tenant and yet I can fly in the air and I do, too, every 
clear moonlight night. Then the water here shines like 
a patch of silver, cool and refreshing is the air and lovely 
to breathe, for all of the flowers give to it of their per- 
fumes. That is the sort of night that the crickets and the 
other little people of the night perform their best and all 
of us who can leave the pool crawl up the stems of the 
water plants, unfurl our gauzy wings and fly to the shore 
to listen to the concert.’’ 

“Why, isn’t that fine!’’ exclaimed the boy. “It gives 
you such a nice change.” 

“Yes, doesn’t it?” agreed the other. “But the last 
full of the moon was a very sad time for our family. My 
younger brother and I went out for a fly one night and 
he was so excited that he lost his sense of direction alto- 
gether, — a failing of the Brown Water-Beetles, — and in- 
sisting that a certain shiny sheet was the surface of the 
pool, in spite of all that I could say, down he dropped 
and landed on the top of this surface with a terrific thud 
and never got up again. Poor brother! He broke his 
back. I went down after him, but slowly and I landed 
on something on which I could hardly stand up, it was so 
slippery and it seemed to be some sort of a cover, for 
under it grew the loveliest flowers and plants. I could 
see the beautiful blossoms in the moonlight.” 

“I’ll bet that your brother landed on the top of a 
greenhouse,” exclaimed the boy, greatly interested in 
Brown Beetle’s story. “Now that I come to think of it, 


IN MEADOWLAND 


289 

I remember that its glass roof would look exactly like 
water when the moon shone upon it. Do accidents like 
that happen often?” 

“No indeed, I should hope not. If they did, what 
would become of our family? That is the first time I 
ever heard of one of us doing such a thing. Of course, I 
have always thought that it was very stupid of the poor 
fellow to do such a thing, but now I do not feel so badly 
about it since you say the mistake could easily happen. 
I shall have to tell the rest of the family that. They 
have always felt a little bit disgraced by the manner 
in which he met his end. We were fond of him, of course, 
but it seemed such an unnecessary way to die.” 

Brown Beetle became very downcast and the boy was 
at a loss what to say to comfort him. But before he could 
think of anything, the fellow, who evidently couldn’t keep 
still for long, said: 

“Say, don’t you wish that you had such fine legs as I 
have, — three pairs of them? With the first set I clamber 
about under the water, with the second I pull myself out 
of the water by hanging on the grass stalks and with the 
third I row myself about the pool. Haven’t I a right to 
be proud of them? I just cannot see how you manage 
with only two pairs.” 

“Oh, I get along very well,” said Peter carelessly and 
then he gave a startled exclamation: 

“My goodness, who in the world is that?” 

“Who? Where? What are you staring at?” de- 
manded Beetle nervously. 

“At that ugly-looking gentleman right behind you. 
See, — the one with the dirty yellow coat on who is hiding 
behind that thicket of grasses just behind you. He has 
just pounced upon a poor little gnat that was going by and 
didn’t see him. Watch out for yourself, there! He 
seems to be coming slowly in your direction.” 


290 


PETER S ADVENTURES 


CXXXIII 

UP TO HER OLD TRICKS 

Brown Beetle peered cautiously behind him, and then 
to the boy’s astonishment commenced to laugh in his 
hoarse way. 

“Ha! Ha! Fancy my being frightened for a minute, 
before I knew whom you were staring at I Why, that is 
our dear little Snake Grub, — Boy. Come on over, 
Snakie, and meet my friend.” 

At these words out from among the grasses where he 
had been lurking crawled one of the strangest creatures 
that Peter had yet seen in the pool. His body was about 
two inches long and very fat and thick in the middle, 
but it tapered towards the head and tail, and such a head 
as the fellow had! Almost perfectly round and large and 
flat, it was joined to his shoulders with a short neck and 
it seemed to be on a pivot, for he continually twisted it 
about in all directions. As he came near, Peter with 
difficulty kept from exclaiming with horror at the long, 
curved, pointed jaws that the creature made no effort to 
conceal. 

Snakie had almost reached the bank when he discovered 
a snail sleeping peacefully in the shallow water and 
swooping down upon it he dragged the soft unresisting 
little victim right out of his shell and calmly devoured 
him before the eyes of the two who were watching him. 
The boy was disgusted at the greed of the ugly grub, but 
Brown Beetle laughed, and said: 

“Can you wonder any longer that I am always so 
fiercely hungry? I was born that way. You may have 
guessed by this time that Snakie will one of these days 
grow to be a beetle, and one exactly like myself. I re- 
member my own grub state and I acted just exactly as he 
does. You see we brown beetles are born to fight and to 
eat and so there is nothing else for us to do but to carry 
out our destiny.” 


IN MEADOWLAND 


291 

Peter was about to make some reply, when suddenly 
a piercing yet familiar buzz sounded at his very ear. 
Quickly the boy turned around. Right close by was a 
little old plum tree. There on a twig that grew beside 
a dead branch stood an insect that at first sight he was 
sure was a fly or a bee. Its coat was smooth and shiny 
and of so dark a shade of blue that it was almost black. 
The boy hardly noticed that, so struck was he with the 
beauty of its four violet-colored wings. The sun shone 
upon them and they glittered like rich jewels. The in- 
sect must have noticed him staring, for it remarked in a 
good-natured tone : 

“Don’t you recognize me yet? We have met once be- 
fore, you know, although under different circumstances 
and I don’t know that I blame you for not recognizing 
me.” 

“I am awfully sorry but I am afraid that I don’t,” 
said the boy; “although your voice sounds familiar, I 
can’t quite recollect having seen your face before.” 

“Well, you have. Think again. Don’t you remember 
going calling with Dawdler the Bee? Yes? Of course 
you do. Well I was spending the day with my cousin, 
Mrs. Mason Bee, when you stopped there.” 

“Oh, now I remember!” cried the boy. “How beau- 
tiful those rose-curtained rooms were! But are you not 
a Mason Bee?” 

“No, I am Mrs. Carpenter Bee. I see that you made 
more of an impression upon me than I did upon you, but 
perhaps that is because you have two legs, — and as one 
seldom sees anything like that around here. I knew 
you at once for the Boy. While I suppose that if you 
noticed me at all that day I looked to you about like all 
the bees that you had seen. If you will look at my teeth 
you will see that I really am different from most of my 
relatives.” 

Peter had come close to the hanging branch, and now 
Mrs. Carpenter Bee turned and thrust her head towards 
him. The boy saw that she had two great teeth formed 
of solid bits of shell or bone that were bent exactly in 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


292 

the shape of augers, curved out at the top and narrowing 
down at the bottom to fine sharp points. 

“These are my tools,” said the bee pointing to these 
teeth with one of her forelegs, “and it is with them that 
I do all my carpentry work. If you watch me for a mo- 
ment you will see how strong they are.” 

Peter was much interested. 

“I would like to climb up there beside you,” said he. 
“I think I could see what you are doing better. May I ?” 

“Sure. Come right ahead,” said the bee cordially, 
“only be sure that you don’t lean your weight against 
this dead branch or it might go down with you and then 
a good bit of my work would be for nothing.” 

Without waiting for a second invitation, up the tree 
climbed the boy, holding on to the bits of rough bark to 
help him along, and when he reached the Bee’s side he 
gasped with amazement. 

“Do you mean to tell me,” demanded he, “that with 
those two teeth you have bored that huge hole into that 
wood? Why, how long is it anyhow, and why did you 
make it so slanting?” 

“Oh, it is about twelve inches, I imagine,” said Car- 
penter Bee carelessly. “I have never measured it, but 
that is the length of the average Carpenter Bee closet 
and I should think that you would know why I made it 
slanting. Wouldn’t the branch break in two if I had 
bored straight through to the center?” 

CXXXIV 

FOLLOWING IN MOTHER’S FOOTSTEPS 

Peter looked at Mrs. Carpenter Bee admiringly. Then 
he leaned over and carefully examined the branch upon 
which she was working. 

“What a wise lady you are,” said he. “Twelve inches 
long though you say that hole is, the branch seems to be 
just as strong as it ever was; but how you ever found out 


IN MEADOWLAND 


293 

that it was unsafe to bore right through to the center, I 
am sure I don’t know. Who taught you?” 

“I do not remember that any one ever taught me,” 
replied the little carpenter. “We insects do things like 
that by instinct, you know. I just had a feeling when I 
started work here that this branch would make a splendid 
closet in which to store my eggs; but it is not firm, — like 
the other branches. The poor thing has lost all its nice 
warm sap and there isn’t a leaf on it, 

“It is dead, you mean,” interrupted the boy. 

“And so I knew I’d have to take particular care not 
to weaken it with my sharp saws,” continued Carpenter 
Bee, exactly as if Peter had not spoken. “Zzz — zzz — 
zzz.” There I guess that opening is long enough for the 
twelve shelves, — I allow about an inch closet space for 
each egg, for the larva that will come out of it will be 
certain to need plenty of room to eat and grow fat in. 
In fact all my babies are fat and I am proud of it. I 
should consider it a disgrace to have any of my children 
come into the world thin. That would mean that I had 
not provided enough for them to eat and as this is about 
the last thing that I do before I ‘go away’ it is a point of 
pride as the mother of a family to do it well.” 

“Go away!” exclaimed the boy. “Why should you do 
that and where do you go? Far away from here?” 

“I really don’t know why I should do it and I haven’t 
the least idea just how far,” answered Mrs. Carpenter 
rather sadly, Peter imagined. “All I know is that I must 
stop working and playing forever, and go off by myself, 
crawling under a nice friendly leaf if I can find one or a 
blade of grass and stay perfectly quiet there until I fall 
asleep.” 

“How strange,” said the boy. “Why do you call it 
‘going away’ when it is really falling asleep?” 

“Because I shall never wake up to come back to my 
old haunts,” replied the other. “I know because that is 
just the way my grandmother disappeared one day before 
my mother was born, and long before I came out as a 
bee my mother followed in her footsteps, and now it is 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


294 

nearly my turn. I am of no more use in the world after 
my eggs are laid, so there is nothing left for me to do 
but to go away. Some say ‘die’ but I don’t like that word 
very much, so I never use it if I can help it. You prob- 
ably are wondering how I know what my grandmother 
and mother did if I never saw them ! Aren’t you? Yes? 
I thought so. Well, of course all of the bees in our fam- 
ily are not mothers and those that are not live longer, — 
some of them are very, very old and it is from one of 
them that I have learned about the women in my family 
and it is my desire to be just like them.” 


cxxxv 

GOING IT ALONE 

“Zzz — zzz — zzz.” Mrs. Carpenter Bee began once 
more vigorously to ply her saws, and rounded off a 
corner, making it perfectly regular and very smooth. The 
boy watched her a minute, thinking deeply about what she 
had said and then spoke. 

“But I don’t see why you have to ‘go away,’ as you 
call it justYecause you have laid your eggs,” declared he. 
“I should think that after you had finished that duty you 
would feel free to have a good time. Why, with nothing 
on your mind, think of the fun you could have playing in 
the sunlight with the other bees and dancing with the 
butterflies among the flowers ! Why, in my country the 
very time that the mothers are most needed is when the 
children are little. You just ought to see what good care 
they take of the babies and how dearly the babies love 
them.” 

“All that sounds very nice,” said Mrs. Bee wistfully, 
“but my babies when they come out of the tree are per- 
fectly well able to take care of themselves. Why, they 
would not even recognize me if they saw me and what 
should I do with myself all the time that they are sleep- 


IN MEADOWLAND 29 5 

ing in the closet? They will not come out until next 
spring, you know. No, things are quite different down 
here in Insect-land. We all — or most of us — have a 
purpose in life and when that is accomplished and we have 
nothing more to do, why, we would only be in the way if 
we hung around. So we never do. But let’s not talk 
about unpleasant things any longer. It makes me feel 
nervous and besides I still have much to do to-day. There 
is a fine field of clover right across the brook and right at 
its edge grow the loveliest wild flowers. I am going 
over to gather some honey. Do you care to come with 
me or would you rather wait here?” 

“I should like to go with you,” said the boy, “but I 
can’t fly, you know, and even if I ran I couldn’t possibly 
keep up with you.” 

“Now isn’t that too bad!” exclaimed Mrs. Carpenter 
Bee. “If I had not worked so hard sawing for the last 
few weeks I should certainly ask you to ride upon my 
back, but to tell you the truth it aches after bending over 
so much.” 

“Dear me! I wouldn’t think of burdening you with 
my weight, my dear lady,” declared Peter, “although a 
ride in the air would be fun. It is quite a time since I 
have had one. Did I understand you to say that you had 
been at work upon this branch for weeks? I thought that 
you had just commenced to build this morning.” 

“Whew! What a whizz you must think me!” ex- 
claimed Mrs. Bee. “Let me see. I think, to be exact, I 
first began to saw upon this branch about two weeks 
and a half ago. Of course I have done all the work 
myself, — we Carpenter Bees live alone all our lives and 
so there is never any one upon whom we can call to help 
us, — and as the wood has been hard and not all the days 
pleasant, — and you have no idea how disagreeable it is 
to try to saw in the rain, — I flatter myself that I have 
made fairly good time. Then you have decided to stay 
here until I return, I take it?” 

“Yes, if you don’t mind,” answered the boy. “I don’t 
like to leave until the closet is quite finished.” 


296 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


CXXXVI 

THE WATCHMAN 

Mrs. Carpenter Bee seemed to be quite delighted by 
Peter’s decision to remain where he was until she returned 
from gathering honey. 

“The closet is quite all finished,” said she, “that is, all 
but the floors and the ceilings and they can’t be fashioned 
until the first egg is laid. And then, of course, comes the 
sealing up. You may be interested in seeing how that is 
done. I am so glad that you have decided to stay, for 
used as I am to living all alone, I don’t mind telling you 
that I do like to have some one to talk to once in a while. 
It does become very tiresome Having nobody about to 
whom you can express your opinions. And I do think 
of so much to say so often. Make yourself at home, now 
do. Take a nap if you like. I think that if you crawl up 
into the crotch of those twigs right above you you will 
find it very comfortable. You will have something to 
lean against. But let me warn you again. Whatever 
you do, don’t press upon the branch. You look as light 
as a feather, but being a Human, appearances may be 
deceiving and I am afraid that, being dead, the branch 
will stand little weight. And I just can’t bear to think of 
anything happening to it after all the trouble I have 
taken.” 

“Now don’t you worry your head about that,” declared 
the boy. “I promise you faithfully that I will not so much 
as touch it while you are gone and what is more I will see 
that no one else comes near to do it harm.” 

“Thank you so much,” said Mrs. Bee gratefully. “Now 
I can fly off with a mind at ease. I have feared that Mrs. 
Woodpecker might come along and steal my closet. We 
Carpenters have to be wary of that great bird. She bores 
holes in wood, just as we do, and you have no idea how 
lazy she is! If she happens to find an opening that we 
have made she appropriates it right away.” 


IN MEADOWLAND 297 

‘ What for?” asked the boy. “She is a bird and you 
are a bee, and I can’t imagine why she should be inter- 
ested in any hole that you might bore !” 

“Oh, don’t you?” asked the bee. “Well, let me tell 
you right now that even if I am small I can saw a large 
hole, — I should think that you could see that for your- 
self, — and one that is quite big enough for her purposes 
and so Mrs. Woodpecker, when she steals it, saves her- 
self the trouble of boring one for herself. Oh, and I 
want to ask you another favor. Don’t let any insect 
come along and disturb that pile of sawdust, will you?” 

“Why no, since you ask me, I will not,” replied Peter. 
“But for goodness’ sake what good is that? You can’t 
make anything out of sawdust, can you?” 

“Sorry I haven’t time to answer your question,” 
laughed Mrs. Bee, “but I really must be off. Just you 
wait and see what I am going to do with it. It serves a 
very necessary purpose, I will tell you that much. So 
long, Boy. I will try not to be away for long. And I 
will bring you back a sip of dew if I can manage to carry 
it, along with the honey. Bye, bye!” 


CXXXVII 

NOBODY HOME 

Off flew the busy little lady and Peter, watching her, 
saw her circling over the field of clover, dipping here, 
darting there, her violet-colored wings looking more like 
tiny jeweled fans than ever as they fluttered in the sun- 
light. At last she dropped down into a cluster of nod- 
ding poppies and was lost to sight. When he could see 
her no longer the boy realized that he was beginning to 
feel very uncomfortable. He had been resting most of 
his weight upon one foot and had been holding on to a 
twig for support and now both his foot and his hand had 
gone to sleep. He was wondering whether he would 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


298 

have to drop down to the ground to become comfortable 
again when suddenly he thought of Carpenter Bee’s sug- 
gestion. And up into the crotch of the twigs that she had 
shown him he climbed. 

Hardly had he seated himself and leaned back with a 
sigh of delight for the solid comfort that he found the 
new seat afforded him, when he heard a new sound. 

“Tap, tap. Tap — tap — tap.” 

Immediately he thought that some one on the ground 
must be knocking to come up, expecting, perhaps, to find 
Mr. Centipede at home. At first he said nothing but 
after the knock was repeated several times he decided 
that whoever was doing it must have an important mes- 
sage for the old fellow. 

“I am sorry, but there is nobody home up here,” he 
called, leaning over and peering down through the 
branches below him. “Mr. Centipede’s house met with 
an accident today, — in fact it has been caved in and he 
has left the neighborhood. I don’t know where he is now 
but it is very likely that I shall meet him again and 
if you will give me the message I will be glad to tell 
him.” 

“Ha! Ha!” chuckled a deep voice that the boy knew 
at once did not come from the ground but from some- 
where right near his own head. “That’s a good one. 
Who cares whether Centipede is at home or not? Cer- 
tainly not I. ’Tis lucky for him though that he isn’t. I 
might have dragged him out from his lair. He would 
make a tasty morsel. But as it happens L am not hungry 
right at present. I have other things to think about, bor- 
ing a hole, for instance. By my great beak! This is luck! 
Here is a hole all bored and just exactly the size that I 
want. I know who made it too, little friend Carpenter 
Bee. Well, I am sorry for her, but she has had her trouble 
for her pains. I shall take possession of it and she will 
have to build another storage house for her eggs.” 

“Indeed, and you will do nothing of the kind,” de- 
clared the boy decidedly. “I am here to guard that hole 
until Carpenter Bee comes back and I am going to do it. 


IN MEADOWLAND 299 

Go right away this minute, Woodpecker, and mind your 
own business. It is a wonder that you are not ashamed of 
yourself, you lazy thing, trying to steal other people’s 
handicraft instead of getting to work yourself. You are 
nothing less than a thief.” 

“Thanks, fair Sir, whoever you are,” replied the 
Woodpecker lazily. “You are not in a very complimen- 
tary mood, I hear. Not many insects would dare call me 
a thief and lazy in the same breath. You have the ad- 
vantage of me for you know my name. Who may you 
be ?” 


CXXXVIII 

THE BIRD WHO WOULD A-STEALING GO 

Peter had just caught a peep of the fellow, and Wood- 
pecker’s beak was so long and sharp and his eyes glittered 
so fiercely as he peered about for the creature that dared 
to talk to him thus brazenly that the boy felt a little 
shiver of fear run up and down his spine. He made up 
his mind to continue with his air of bravado, however. 
So in as bold a voice as he could command he replied to 
the bird. 

“Not an insect, at any rate,” said he, “or I would 
probably have been as afraid to call you a lazy thief, 
which you really seem to be, as they would be. If you 
really wish to know the truth I will tell you. I am a 
Human.” 

“Pooh, tell me another,” said Woodpecker quickly. “I 
don’t believe you. Don’t you think that I have ever seen 
one of those great two-leggers? Why, one couldn’t hide 
in a tree without my seeing him to save his life. If I 
didn’t spy his face I should discover his legs. Human 
nothing! You are some miserable little insect that thinks 
you are going to fool me.” 

Peter felt himself growing hot all over at this insult. 
Fond as he had grown of some of the little people, he 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


3 °° 

had no wish to be thought anything but what he was. 
Forgetting his caution he sprang from his seat. 

“I tell you I am a Human,” cried he. “If you don’t 
believe it, look at me. Here I am, right above that broken 
branch. Did you ever see an insect with two legs and 
wearing pants?” 

Woodpecker, at last catching sight of the boy, held on 
to the trunk of the tree with both his claws to keep from 
falling down with surprise. 

“Well, by my great beak!” exclaimed he, again using 
what seemed to be his favorite expression. “I can hardly 
believe my eyes. As sure as I live you are a Human, for 
as you say no insect ever had two legs or if they had, hid 
them in rags like those you are wearing.” 

“Rags! The very idea !” said the boy angrily. “These 
are the very best pants that my mother could buy. I 
have climbed lots of trees with them on and they haven’t 
torn yet.” 

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” answered 
Woodpecker, “and I am sure I don’t care, but there is 
no reason for you to get so cross. I didn’t lose my temper 
when you called me names. Why are you so small?” 

“Because I choose to be,” snapped the boy. “But I 
can grow large any second I wish to and if you do not go 
right away and leave Carpenter Bee’s house alone, I will, 
and then I shall chase you away.” 

“And with a stone, I suppose,” muttered Woodpecker. 
“I know that trick of the Human well. One of your 
brothers nearly broke my wing not long ago. Well, I 
reckon, seeing that it is you, I shall have to do as you say. 
I am sorry that you feel the way you do about things, 
though. If you had not interfered, this hole would have 
helped me out wonderfully. But there ! What is the 
use of making a fuss about things? If I can’t have it, 
why, I can’t, and that is all there is to it. I don’t hold it 
against you, Boy. I suppose you are a friend of Car- 
penter Bee and want to protect her interests. I hope the 
next time we shall meet it will be as friends too. Good-by 
and good luck.” 


IN MEADOWLAND 


301 


CXXXIX 

A SEEKER AFTER SAWDUST 

Peter had expected something so entirely different that 
Woodpecker’s attitude amazed him. And the big bird 
sailed off out of hearing before he recovered sufficiently 
from his astonishment to say good-by. 

“Why, he is the most good-natured fellow in the 
world,” said he aloud. “To look at him, one would 
think that he was ready at all times to bite one’s head 
off and yet he didn’t even lose his temper when I called 
him names. And when he saw who I was he went away 
as meek as Moses, without doing a bit of damage to 
Carpenter Bee’s closet. I had no idea that he would pay 
the least bit of attention to me. I am so small. He could 
have gobbled me up at one gulp.” 

“Why should he wish to gobble you up?” asked a voice 
so sharp that suddenly breaking in upon the boy’s 
thoughts as it did, it made him jump. “Woodpecker is a 
peaceable enough fellow if he is left alone. Good. Here 
is some fine white sawdust. Now I will not have to chip 
off any wood. This is just the thing to make up into 
paper.” 

Quickly the boy glanced down at the pile of sawdust 
that Carpenter Bee had been so particular to have un- 
disturbed and there right in its midst stood a slender 
wasp. She was stuffing some of the fine sawdust into her 
mouth with her front claws, standing on her hind legs as 
she did so. So interested in the sight was Peter that for 
a minute he forgot Mrs. Bee’s final warning. Then he 
remembered. 

“I hope you will pardon me for mentioning it, Wasp,” 
remarked he abruptly, “but that sawdust really doesn’t 
belong to you, you know. Whatever are you doing with 
it, anyhow?” 

“I don’t know that it is any of your business, but since 
you have asked I will tell you that I am making paper to 


3°2 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


build my nest with. I can’t see you very well, but it is 
plain to be heard that you are a stranger around here or 
you would have known at once what I was doing. I am 
the greatest paper manufacturer among the little people 
of field and forest. My fame extends throughout the 
length and breadth of Insect-land.” 



“I don’t doubt it,” agreed the-Toy politely. “I am 
ashamed of my ignorance. Certainly what you are doing 
is very interesting. Only you see I am standing guard 
for a friend of mine and she is very anxious not to lose 
any of that sawdust.” 

“What is your friend’s name?” demanded Wasp, still 
stuffing sawdust into her mouth. 



IN MEADOWLAND 303 

“Mrs. Carpenter Bee,” replied the boy. “She is out 
just now gathering honey.” 

“For pity’s sake, why didn’t you tell me so in the first 
place?” cried Wasp sharply. “If I had known that this 
sawdust belonged to Mrs. Carpenter Bee I wouldn’t have 
come near it. She needs it for exactly the same purpose 
as do I, — to build a home for her wee babies. We are 
both mothers and not for worlds would I hinder her in 
her duties. But there, I have only taken a tiny bit. See! 
I am scraping the rest up in a nice heap so she will never 
know that it has been disturbed unless you tell her. I 
will go on to the next tree. Perhaps I can find a bit of 
hard dry wood there to chip off. It will be handier for 
me anyhow, for my nest is in one of the branches over 
there. Come over and see me some time.” 


CXL 

BRINGING HOME THE HONEY 

Scarcely had Wasp flitted out of sight behind the tree 
when Mrs. Carpenter Bee arrived upon the scene. 

“Dear me! What a time I have had!” exclaimed she, 
alighting on a twig by Peter’s side. “The flowers are 
crowded. It seems to me that every insect in these parts 
must have taken this afternoon to go honey-hunting. I 
had a great time making my way through the jam. In 
spite of all that I could do I was sure that my bundles 
of honey would be knocked from off my legs. You have 
no idea how rude some of the lady bees are, — if they are 
my own relatives. The way they push is perfectly disgust- 
ing. And the butterflies take advantage of their size and 
take possession of a blossom and nobody else can get 
near it until they have finished. And when they are ready 
to go, sometimes all the honey is gone too. I am just 
tired out.” 

“Now that is too bad, Mrs. Bee,” sympathized the 
boy. “I know how it is, though. There is nothing that 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


3°4 

makes any one feel more weary than battling with a 
crowd. You have been working so hard all day, can’t 
you rest for a few moments now? And perhaps there 
is something that I can do to help you. Isn’t there?” 

“Bless your eyes, Boy, no!” exclaimed Mrs. B ee. “But 
I must say it is mighty thoughtful of you to offer. I 
shall be all right in a second now, — just as soon as I get 
my breath. By the way, did my sight deceive me or did I 
see some one flying away just as I came up?” 

“You did, my dear Mrs. Bee !” Peter replied. “It was 
your next-door neighbor, Mrs. Wasp.” 

“What was she here for, I wonder,” mused Mrs. Bee. 
“Good gracious! Don’t tell me that she took any of 
my sawdust !” 

“Only a wee bit,” said the boy. “I discovered what 
she was doing after she had taken a mouthful, and warned 
her away. As soon as she found out that it was your 
pile that she was disturbing she stopped meddling with 
it and said that she would not have touched it for the 
world if she had known to whom it belonged. She said 
that you and she were both mothers and wanted the saw- 
dust for the same purpose. Now what did she mean by 
that?” 

“You will have to ask her,” replied Mrs. Bee. “She is 
much, wiser than I am and can tell you all about every- 
body’s business while I am only sure about my own. But 
I will say that it was good of her to go away. She could 
have put me to a great deal of inconvenience. Were 
there any other meddlesome callers?” 

“Only Woodpecker. He wanted to steal that closet 
of yours, — for what purpose I can’t imagine, — but I 
frightened him away by threatening to change into boy- 
size again and throw a stone at him.” Peter laughed at 
the recollection. 

“Good work. Thanks a thousand times, friend,” said 
Mrs. Bee. “That would have been the most terrible 
thing that could have happened to me after all my work. 
And speaking of work, I must get at my task right away 
or I shall never finish it. Let me see. The next thing I 


IN MEADOWLAND 


305 

must do is to get rid of this honey. It is making my legs 
ache. I do hope that I have brought enough to fill all 
the closets.” 


CXLI 

TWELVE LITTLE CLOSETS 

Down flew Mrs. Carpenter Bee to the opening in the 
dead branch, and carefully lowering himself from twig to 
twig, Peter soon stood on a branch quite near her, — so 
close that he could see perfectly just what she was doing. 

“What do you mean by ‘all’ the closets?” asked the 
boy. 

“My goodness, what a poor memory you have, Boy,” 
remarked Mrs. Bee. “Didn’t I tell you that I had pre- 
pared this hole for twelve eggs, allowing about an inch 
space for each one?” 

“Why, so you did. And I had forgotten it,” said the 
boy shamefacedly. “But what are you doing now?” 

“Do you see that lump of honey that I have just de- 
posited in one end of the opening?” asked Mrs. Car- 
penter Bee. “Well, look closely and you will notice a 
little egg lying upon it. I laid that while you were climb- 
ing down from your perch in yonder twig. Now I am 
making the glue with which to fashion the ceiling and 
outside wall of this first closet. And when it is sealed 
up I shall lay another egg upon another lump of honey 
that I shall store away in the closet above it, and so on 
until all twelve closets are filled and sealed. The honey 
is for the baby grubs. The poor little things have to stay 
shut up here until spring and they would starve to death 
without it. Now do you mind if I do not talk to you for a 
while? Making this glue is one of the hardest things I 
do for I have to be very particular and get it just right so 
that it will stick or it will be no good at all. And if a 
thing is worth doing at all it is worth doing well, as my 
old uncle used to declare. I shall not have very much to 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


306 

say to you for a while now, but you are welcome to watch 
me and ask me questions and if I can answer them I will. 
But don’t be offended if I do not.” 

“Of course not,” declared the boy. “But before you 
do stop talking tell me how long it will take you to lay 
all your eggs and seal them up.” 

“Wait and see,” mumbled Mrs. Carpenter Bee, who 
now, just as Mrs. Wasp had done, had picked up a bit of 
the sawdust and seemed to be moistening it; and not an- 
other word could the boy get out of her. At least after 
making several strange motions she held up a sticky mass 
to show Peter and he saw at once that in some wonderful 
way Mrs. Bee had changed the sawdust to something that 
looked like glue. Then the clever little carpenter at- 
tached this substance to the walls above the egg on its 
mound of honey and in no time at all the precious egg 
was firmly cased in on all sides. 

“Great!” exclaimed the boy admiring Mrs. Bee’s quick 
work. “Now what are you going to do next?” 

For answer the little carpenter swiftly deposited a lump 
of honey upon the ceiling of the first closet which had be- 
come the floor of the second closet and before Peter 
could say another word she had laid an egg upon it. Not 
stopping for a moment’s rest, she immediately set about 
mixing the saw 7 dust with whatever she used to give it its 
glue-like quality and with a speed so rapid that it fairly 
made the boy gasp she fashioned the ceiling and closed up 
the second closet in just the same way as she had the 
first. She kept this up until at last all of the twelve cells 
were filled with honey and eggs and sealed up tight. 

CXLII 

CARPENTER BEE'S CRADLE SONG 

After she had put the finishing touch to the last com- 
partment Mrs. Carpenter Bee stepped back to survey 
her work. 


IN MEADOWLA^D 307 

“Aah,” sighed she. U I am glad that is done. I am 
tired and how my poor old back does ache! I shall have 
plenty of time to rest, however. I haven’t a thing in the 
world to do now, you know.” 

Something about the tone in which Carpenter Bee said 
these last words made Peter look at her very closely and 
he saw to his dismay that she was wiping away a tear with 
her antenna. 

“Why, what in the world is the matter?” asked he, 
patting the little lady upon the back. “Cheer up! Now 
you have finished your work you can play.” Then he re- 
membered what she had said. “You don’t have to leave 
Insect-land, do you?” 

Carpenter Bee, however, refused to be comforted. 

“Oh, yes, I do,” she wailed. “You don’t know any- 
thing about that feeling inside of me. It is telling me 
now that my life work is over and that I am of no fur- 
ther use. I really don’t want to go to sleep a bit. I want 
to work and to play some more and to buzz about in the 
sun among the flowers with my friends. But if I did, 
now that my tasks are over and my family all know about 
it they wouldn’t have a bit of respect for me. And any- 
thing is better than to lose the respect of one’s family. 
Leave me, Boy, if you don’t mind. I am going to sing a 
song of farewell to my babies in the closet and tell them 
to be good children and do just as their mother would 
wish them to. Somehow I think that they will hear me 
and when they have become little carpenter bees they will 
remember my last words and grow up to be a credit to the 
family.” 

It was plain to be seen that Carpenter Bee really did 
wish that Peter would take himself off — that she really 
did want to be left alone. So he said good-by and clam- 
bered down the tree. 

“I hate to go away and leave her feeling so sad,” said 
the boy to himself as he stood upon the ground peering 
up into the tree trying to catch a glimpse of his friend. 
And just then he saw her perched upon a twig right above 
the closet in the branch and she was singing a little song. 


308 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

To Peter’s surprise it didn’t sound one bit sad. It was a 
pretty lullaby. And this is what Mother Carpenter Bee 
was singing: 

“In your tiny cradles 
Rest, my babies, safe from harm. 

The rain may beat, 

The snow-flakes fall, 

You need feel no alarm. 

When the spring-time cometh 
You’ll awaken from your sleep. 

When birdies nest, 

And blossoms bud, 

Forth from your cells you’ll creep. 

Hush-a-bye, my babies, 

When bees, do as I now bid. 

First play a bit, 

Then work a lot, 

Just as your mother did.” 


CXLIII 

LEAVING AN OLD FRIEND FOR A NEW 

Lower and lower grew the voice of Mrs. Carpenter 
Bee as she crooned her cradle song, until at last Peter 
could not make out what she was humming, listen as hard 
as he would. Finally he decided that the lady must have 
fallen asleep, soothed by her own song for he could now 
hear no sound at all. 

“That was certainly a pretty lullaby,” said he under 
his breath, “but I don’t see much sense in Mrs. Bee’s sing- 
ing it, considering the fact that her babies are hidden 
away in their little egg shells. They couldn’t possibly 
hear it even if they were grubs, sealed up as they are in 
those air tight closets. Whew ! I should think that 
when they do hatch out into grubs that they would 
smother. I don’t understand how they are ever going to 
stand it without a whiff of air nor a bit of light, — noth- 
ing to do all day long but just stuff on honey. However, 


IN MEADOWLAND 


309 

I suppose Mrs. Bee knew what she was doing. Anyhow 
it is none of my business. She was a nice lady, too. 
It does seem a shame that I shall never see her again. 
But if she will not stick around for a while, now that her 
work is done, and have a good time why that is her affair 
too. There is no use in my worrying about it. I 
think I shall go over and call upon Mrs. Wasp. She 
seemed a very interesting sort of body. I hope that she 
will be at leisure so that she can talk to me a little. I’ll 
bet that I can learn a lot of things from her.” 

Just then a Darning-needle flew past. 

“Hey there, Mr. Fly-fast, wait a minute, will you?” 
called the boy. “I want to be sure I am going in the right 
direction to reach Mrs. Wasp’s home. Can you aid me?” 

“Certainly I can, but I will not,” said the fellow, never 
stopping in his flight but calling back his rude answer that 
was brought to the boy’s ears with the aid of the wind. 
“Why should I? I have to depend upon myself and so« 
must you.” 

“Well, if he isn’t the most disagreeable chap that I 
have ever met!” exclaimed the boy. “As if he couldn’t 
take the time to do me a little favor like that! Oh well, 
I don’t care. I think I am going right. I remember that 
Mrs. Wasp said turn in the direction that the sun rises 
and then to follow my nose until I came to a big apple 
tree. This must be it now. Gracious ! How huge the 
trunk does seem when one is as tiny as I am now! I 
thought so. Here I am standing upon an apple tree leaf. 
How am I ever going to find Mrs. Wasp’s home? I 
wonder on which branch she lives! The best thing that 
I can do is to call to her. If she doesn’t wish to answer 
me, well and good. But if she should it would certainly 
help me a lot.” 

The boy never wasted much time about doing anything, 
once he had made up his mind to it, and now he cried as 
loudly as he could : 

“Mrs. Wasp, oh, Mrs. Wasp! I, the boy, am here, 
but I can’t find your house. Do you mind showing your- 
self to me?” 


310 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

In answer to his request a sharp buzz that he instantly 
recognized as Mrs. Wasp’s voice sounded not far above 
his head. 


CXLIV 

THE HANGING HOUSE 

There was no answer, so the boy set out upon his climb 
up the tree. He had gone quite a distance before he 
caught sight of a queer gray thing that looked like a top, 
hanging on a branch beside him. He glanced at it, won- 
dering what it could be. Then he peered about looking 
for some sign of his hostess. 

“Hello, Mrs. Wasp! Here I am,” cried he. “I dare 
say I am at your very door, only I can’t find it. Perhaps 
I am near enough to walk right in if you would open it 
for me.” 

“S-sh ! Didn’t I tell you to be quiet so you would not 
wake the babies!” scolded a cross voice in an undertone. 
“What if you are at my very door, — and of course you 
are, — is that any reason why you should make a disturb- 
ance that is enough to rouse the neighbors?” 

Peter would have been very indignant at this disagree- 
able reception if he had not been so greatly surprised. 
For just as she finished the last word, out from the queer 
top-like shaped ball stepped Mrs. Wasp. Peter could 
only gasp his apology. 

“I am sure I beg your pardon, Mrs. Wasp,” said he. 
“I do hope that I did not disturb your children. Do tell 
me, is that your house?” 

“If it wasn’t, do you suppose that I would be coming 
out of it?” snapped the cross lady. “If you did not 
recognize it, what did you mean by saying that you were 
here ! I do remember now that you yelled out some- 
thing about not finding the door.” 

“When I said I was ‘here’ I meant in the tree, — that 


IN MEADOWLAND 


3ii 

is by the apple-cluster,” explained Peter painstakingly. 
“I didn’t recognize your house because I have never seen 
a wasp’s home before. It is a regular mansion, isn’t it? 
It does look a trifle weather-beaten though. Has it been 
built long?” 

“About six months,” replied Wasp not so crossly as 
before. Evidently it pleased her to have her house re- 
marked upon. “We wasps seldom live in a house that 
is more than a year old. We build new ones every spring. 
We do not believe that it is safe to occupy quarters that 
other people have lived in even if we happen to sur- 
vive the winter. You will find us very sanitary folks, 
Boy.” 

“Fine,” said Peter; “then I suppose you are always 
healthy, as' well. My father says the two go together.” 

“Doubtless your father is quite right,” remarked Mrs. 
Wasp politely. “But I wonder if you know what my 
house is made of?” 

The boy looked at the hanging top carefully. 

“Do you mind if I touch it?” asked he. “Probably I 
can make a better guess if I find how it feels.” 

“Not a bit. Go ahead, nothing you can do can hurt 
it,” answered Mrs. Wasp. And she smiled as the boy 
passed his hand carefully over the side of the house 
that was nearest to him. Then he thoughtfully scratched 
his head. 

“I am not quite sure,” said he. “But if paper could 
be made as hard as this surface is I should say your house 
here is made of paper.” 

“Hurrah! Good for you,” cried Mrs. Wasp approv- 
ingly. “You are not as stupid as I feared you were. You 
have made a good guess. My house is built of paper.” 

“Where do you get it?” asked the boy? 

“Make it myself,” replied Mrs. Wasp proudly. “And 
I will tell you how. First I find a piece of hard dry 
wood and then from it I chip off bits, as fine as threads. 
(Sawdust is just the thing if I can find any — that’s why 
I was so delighted when I came upon Mrs. Carpenter 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


3 12 

Bee’s pile). In my mouth I keep a glue and with this 
glue I moisten these threads of wood, and this turns 
the wood dust into paper.” 

“Look!” exclaimed the boy. “Right over in that 
other branch is another wasp. She has just been stand- 
ing on her hind feet exactly as you were doing when 
I first caught sight of you in Mrs. Bee’s sawdust pile. 
Is she rolling the threads of wood in her mouth?” 

“Yes, I do believe she is,” exclaimed Mrs. Wasp 
almost as excited as was Peter himself. “And that 
means that she is soon going to use them. Now that I 
think of it, Mrs. Neighbor Rust Red told me that she 
was going to paper a few of her front rooms this after- 
noon. Would you like to go over and watch her? I 
don’t think that she would mind and you would enjoy 
seeing how she stamps the paper flat with her feet. We 
wasps have flat hind feet, you know, for this very pur- 
pose. There she goes now. In a moment she will be 
laying on the paper. Hurry if you wish to catch her 
at work.” 


CXLV 

CORDIAL MRS. RUST RED 

As they drew near, the other wasp rushed forward 
and tapped the boy upon the back with her antennae. 

“Glad to meet you. Glad to meet you!” cried she 
cordially. “You are the first two-legger that has ever 
done me the honor to pay a visit to my domains. My 
cousin here tells me that you wish to see how I paper 
my rooms. You are welcome to watch me, I am sure. 
I hope you will think that they are pretty when I have 
finished with them. At least they will be warm and 
above all clean. But let me tell you something. Don’t 
you let anything Cousin says worry you. When you have 
known her half as long as I have, you will know that she 


IN MEADOWLAND 313 

doesn t mean half of what she says. Her snap is worse 
than her sting. She is a good friend and neighbor, — 
no one knows it better than I do, — and she loves to 
have company. So do I for that matter. We are both 
social wasps, you know and so are all our immediate 
families.” 

“Social wasps? Are you really?” cried the boy. “Oh 
how glad I am to hear that. I had almost made up 
my mind that I had made a mistake in coming to visit 
you. Somehow I had the idea that you did not care 
for callers, — that you were too busy. But if you are 
really social why that makes things all right. I am a 
Human, you know, and as a rule your family does not 
like mine, now does it?” 

“It is all my fault that you thought such things of 
us wasps, now isn’t it, Boy?” asked the first Mrs. Wasp. 
“I am ashamed of myself and I hope that it will teach 
me a lesson to hold my tongue.” 

M rs. Rust Red paid no attention to her cousin’s re- 
mark but continued her conversation with the boy. 

“Don’t you worry,” declared she. “My relatives are 
all too fair-minded to let a little thing like that stand 
in the way of their being polite. Besides you are not 
to blame and there would be no use in holding you 
responsible for it. To be sure, the Humans have never 
been very nice to us, — they have never been content to 
let us alone but have shown a delight in tormenting us 
and when we got back at them in the only way we knew 
how and stung them, why then they called us hateful 
names and tried to crush us with their mighty strength. 
We would never have hurt them if they had let us alone, 
— not even Mrs. Hornet and she is the crossest wasp of 
us all, — would have touched them. But then all this is 
all the more reason why we should be nice to you. You 
are so tiny that you could not harm us and you can see 
us as we really are.” 

“But you haven’t seen my babies yet,” continued Mrs. 
Rust Red. “Step this way and take a peep at them.” 


3*4 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


CXLVI 

UPSIDE DOWN 

Mrs. Rust Red seemed to have a better disposition 
than her cousin, but remembering how rudely he had 
been received by the first Mrs. Wasp, Peter stepped 
gingerly and almost held his breath so that if these 
babies should happen to be asleep he would not waken 
them. Mrs. Rust Red noticed him, and laughed. 

“You needn’t keep quiet around here, Boy,” said she. 
“My children are too well covered to hear any noise 
that you could make and as for the babies, — it doesn’t 
matter about them for it is their feeding time anyhow. 
I have a number of grown-up sons and daughters. You 
must meet them first. I am not very proud of my sons, — 
they are inclined to be loafers, but my daughters are 
splendid, — so domestic. I have brought them up well, 
I can tell you. They can all make paper and glue al- 
most as perfectly as I can and even now some of them 
have little wasps of their own to rear and others are 
building homes for themselves.” 

By this time the three friends, — for Mrs. Wasp Num- 
ber One had followed Peter and Mrs. Rust Red, — had 
reached the door of the latter’s home which was quite 
different from the other hanging house although it too 
was attached to the lower side of a branch, — and was 
made of paper. For in this case, instead of looking 
like a great top the house seemed to be fashioned of a 
number of little baskets, turned upside down and all 
joined together. 

Mrs. Rust Red pointed to it proudly. 

“You can judge for yourself what a large family I 
have,” said she, “when you notice how many rooms this 
house has, and we keep making additions all the time.” 

“Are those the doors to the rooms?” asked Peter 
peering at some round openings. “Why in the world are 
they at the bottom instead of at the top? I should think 


IN MEADOWLAND 


315 

that the children would fall out of them. Don’t you 
find them dangerous?” 

“Not the least bit, Boy,” said Mrs. Rust Red. “The 
first thing that a Wasp learns is how to manage his legs 
and hang on to the surface of things, — no matter how 
slanting they may be. Never yet have I heard of one, — 
even the smallest baby, — falling out of the nest. Now 
suppose that the doors were at the top. What do you 
think would happen? Why, all the wasps would be 
drowned the first time it rained. The rain-drops would 
fall upon us, — what would there be to keep them out, — 
and would stay right there, for there would be no chance 
for them to soak through since our nests are always 
made water-proof. And it would not take long for 
the cells to be filled up. No sirree! Such an arrange- 
ment would never do. With the doors opening at the 
bottom, no rain can get in the rooms and we take good 
care that the roof never leaks. You really have no 
idea how cozy our house is. Come inside and see for 
yourself.” 

Not a bit unwilling to find out all that he could about 
how the Wasps lived, Peter followed Mrs. Rust Red 
into one of the rooms. He found it light and airy but 
rather small, — in fact there was not more than enough 
room for him to turn around in and for a minute he 
thought that he was going to be stuck fast between the 
walls on the side farthest away from the entrance, but 
moving gingerly he managed to back out without at- 
tracting Mrs. Rust Red’s attention to his predicament. 
To his surprise the first Wasp, without saying farewell, 
was flying off home. 


CXLVII 

A DUTIFUL DAUGHTER 

“Poor cousin,” remarked Mrs. Rust Red looking after 
her. “She means well but she is so dreadfully quick- 


316 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

tempered. There is only one other of my relatives that 
becomes so easily angered and that is Mrs. Hornet. By 
the way, I expect her here in a few moments. Now do, 
for goodness’ sakes, be pleasant to her and above all 
things avoid getting into any argument.” 

“I shall certainly remember and do my best,” said the 
boy earnestly. “But the worst of it is that I never know 
what I am going to say that will make them angry. Per- 
haps I had better not open my mouth.” 

“Nonsense. That would never do,” replied Mrs. Rust 
Red quickly. “Nothing makes- insects so provoked as 
to have any one ignore them. They like attention. But 
don’t make personal remarks, my boy. You know you 
really should not have told Mrs. Wasp that you didn’t 
admire her figure.” 

“I didn’t say I didn’t admire it, I just said that I didn’t 
wish to have one like it,” insisted the boy. “And any- 
how she said I was too fat first.” 

“Oh well, it’s no matter. Let’s drop the subject,” 
said Mrs. Rust Red good-naturedly. “Now wouldn’t you 
like to ” 

The boy never knew what she was going to ask for 
just at that second the face of a strange wasp was framed 
in the doorway. 

“My goodness, Mother, aren’t you ever coming out?” 
asked the newcomer. “I have just brought home some 
fresh honey from the market in the meadow, — Mr. Yel- 
low Butterfly flew home with me and he told me that he 
had gotten some of the same brand yesterday and that 
it was perfectly delicious. I hurried to be here for feed- 
ing time but I don’t know which grub you think that I 
had better give it to. Which of the babies were fed 
last?” 

“The babies in the last cells over to the right, my 
dear,” answered Mrs. Rust Red, “but wait a moment 
before you go. Let me introduce our guest, Boy, to 
you.” 

“Glad to meet you, I am sure,” said the young wasp 
politely nodding to Peter. “I am sorry that I seem to 


IN MEADOWLAND 


317 

be in such a hurry, but this honey is becoming heavy and 
I want to get rid of it. Would you like to see me feed 
the babies?” 

“Indeed I would,” declared the boy. 

“Well then, come along with me,” replied the youth- 
ful worker. 

“Yes do, and then come back and watch me paper 
those rooms,” urged Mrs. Rust Red. I shall have to 
make ready the paste. I used up all that I had.” 

“Thanks, both of you, I don’t want to miss anything,” 
laughed Peter. “I don’t suppose that it will take long 
to feed the babies, will it?” 

“No indeed,” replied the young wasp. “Let’s see. 
Mother said those in the right hand cells had been fed. 
So we will turn to the left. Here’s a hungry grub now.” 

They stopped at the door of a cell somewhat smaller 
than the one in which Peter had no nearly met with an 
accident and remembering this he contented himself 
with watching his guide from the doorway. 


CXLVIII 

THROUGH THE WAX DOOR 

Into this small room hastened the young wasp, and 
the boy watched her bend over a soft mushy looking 
little object and give it some of her fresh honey. Upon 
looking closely at the queer lumpy little thing, Peter 
saw that it was a tiny little wasp with no wings and no 
feet. It was not long before the nurse decided that the 
baby had had all that was good for it to eat and out she 
came. 

“That child is all ready to be sealed up if I know 
anything about sealing-time,” said she. “I believe that 
I will call Mother and ask her what she thinks. She is 
very wise in such matters, you know.” And that is what 
she did. Evidently Mrs. Wasp was expecting some such 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


318 

summons, for over she flew, and wasted no time in going 
in to look at baby grub. 

“You told me just in time, daughter,” said she. “Baby 
is all ready to go to sleep. Now Boy, watch me put a 
wax lid on the cell. It will shut baby away from all light 
and noise until she is ready to come out a full-grown 
wasp.” 

The boy watched her as she deftly made a wax door 
for the opening and fastened it in place. 

“There,” said she. “That’s another job done. I 
have made the door thin so that she can eat it off with- 
out much trouble. I wonder what daughter wants now. 
There she stands waving to us from that room at the 
end of the house. Something must be happening. Oh, 
I think I know what it is. One of the children was 
timed to come out to-day. Perhaps she is nibbling her 
way into the world now. Let’s hurry down and see.” 

Mrs. Rust Red’s guess had been right. Just as they 
reached the spot where her daughter stood Peter heard 
a queer sucking sound. Right in the middle of the wax 
door was a tiny hole that, as the boy watched, grew 
larger and larger and at last at this opening appeared 
the face of a wasp. 

“Hello, everybody!” greeted a weak voice that evi- 
dently belonged to the face. “Get out of my way, for 
I am all ready to come out and not being quite sure 
of myself I might bump into one of you. One! Two! 
Three! Ready. Here I come now.” 

With a queer crinkling snap the wax gave way and 
out burst a fine wasp, almost as large as either of the 
other two and with quite as beautiful a coat. At first her 
wings lay close to her sides but she had only been 
out in the air a moment when she spread them wide open. 

“My, but that feels good,” said she. “You have no 
idea how glad I am to get out of those cramped quart- 
ers. Dear me, Mother, who is this with you? Surely 
no relative of ours. I don’t remember ever seeing a 
Wasp like this when I was a grub.” The newly arrived 


IN MEADOWLAND 


319 

Wasp peered at Peter out of large eyes, set close to her 
head and touched him timidly with her feelers. 

“This is Boy, child, a friend of the Wasps, although 
not a relative, as you have guessed. But fly away now 
and try your wings. Have a good time while you may, 
for before long I shall need you to help build more 
rooms. You may notice some sawdust or fine wood shav- 
ings on your fly. If you do, remember where they were 
and be sure to tell me. Such a large house requires 
much paper, varnish and glue to keep it in repair 1” 


CXLIX 

A QUEER WAY OF LOVING 

Quite evidently Mrs. Rust Red did not believe in baby- 
ing her children and wished to make them feel that they 
must do their share of the work of the family at once. 
The young wasp assumed quite a grown-up air. 

“Very well, Mother,” said she. “I will keep my eyes 
open and if I see anything that looks good to me I will 
let you know. But don’t worry if I don’t come right 
back. Remember this is my first sail in the sky and I 
want to make the most of it. You were young once your- 
self, you know and I’ll bet that you liked a good time as 
well as anybody.” 

“You are right, my child, I did,” replied her mother 
promptly. “I want to see you enjoy yourself, — you will 
never be a minute-old wasp again. But don’t get lost and 
watch out for danger. And remember, if you do have 
to fight that your stinger is in your tail. Never get 
rattled and stay with your face to an enemy and never 
run away. Stand your ground, but be sure that your 
back is towards him.” 

“For goodness sakes don’t tell me anything else now 
or I shall get all mixed up,” pleaded the new wasp. 




PETER S ADVENTURES 


3 2 ° 

“Good-by, every one. What in the world is the matter 
with my wings, Mother? I do believe that they are 
broken. See, I can’t wave one of them. It wobbles so.” 

“It is only weak, child. Try again,” said Mrs. Rust 
Red. “There that is better. Fine. Now you are all 
right. Off you go. Take care, my dear. Not so fast 
or you will lose your breath. That’s right! By-by. A 
merry fly, but come home before the dew falls.” 

“I wish that all the children would hurry up and come 
out,” said the mother turning to Peter. “It breaks my 
heart to think of stinging them to death and we shall 
have to, you know, if there are any left within the cells 
when the frost comes on.” 

“Sting them to death!” exclaimed the boy. “Why, 
Mrs. Rust Red, do you mean to tell me that you would 
kill your own babies!” 

“If it becomes necessary,” replied the mother. “And 
it is far kinder tRan it sounds for if the helpless little 
things were left in the cells through the winter they would 
die of hunger and cold.” 

“But why don’t you care for the children, feed them 
and protect them in winter just as you do in summer?” 
asked the boy amazed. 

“Because most of us die ourselves when the cold 
weather comes,” replied Mrs. Rust Red sadly. “Not 
enough of us live to take care of the little ones and be- 
sides those of us who might be alive are too cold to move 
about. Much as we would wish to, we would be too 
stiff to care for them properly and where, pray tell, 
would we get the honey? No, it is much the kindest way 
to spare the babies any suffering. Those who are too 
helpless to look out for themselves must be put out of 
the way. This is my second summer, but who knows 
whether I shall be able to start another colony next 
spring? It is pretty hard work being a worker and a 
Queen too, you know. And I lose most of my workers 
in the late autumn and have to do double the work my- 
self when I wake up and find myself almost alone in the 
world when spring comes!” 


IN MEADOWLAND 


321 

“Good gracious! Are you a Queen?” demanded the 
boy. “Why didn’t you say so before?” 

“Why should I?’ asked Mrs. Rust Red. “I am much 
more proud of being the mother of such a large thriving 
family. But this isn’t getting my rooms papered and 
they simply must be done to-day. Ah ! Here comes one 
of the workers now with a fine ball of wood threads.” 


CL 

TAKING THE HINT FROM THE HORNET 

The worker flew up with her load of wood threads and 
these she laid at the feet of her Queen. Eagerly Mrs. 
Rust Red set to work upon them and after she had moist- 
ened them with glue, made them into a ball, and, standing 
upon her hind legs, had placed the ball between her jaws 
off she flew towards the farthest end of the house, 
Peter following her as fast as he could, and alone, for 
the young wasp who had taken him to see the young 
grub fed was continuing on her rounds. 

As soon as she reached the room that needed paper- 
ing, Mrs. Rust Red put the ball down and with her 
jaws and her flat feet she spread it out flat and stamped 
upon it until she had a thin sheet of gray paper. This 
she laid carefully upon another sheet of paper that she 
had evidently made before. These layers of paper she 
fashioned into a neat cell just exactly like the others. 

“I believe that I shall call this the ‘house of many 
rooms,’ ” said Peter suddenly. “It is quite different from 
Mrs. Wasp’s, isn’t it? Hers seemed to have only one 
room, although I dare say that it was a huge affair.” 

“There you are wrong,” said Mrs. Rust Red. “Al- 
though I have never counted, I dare say that in her home 
there are as many rooms as in mine only the difference 
is that here you can plainly see them, for they are all 
separate and exposed to view, while Mrs. Wasp is more 
seclusive and believes in not allowing the neighbors to 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


322 

know what she does and so her cells are all enclosed in 
one paper envelope that fits over and hides them all.” 

“That is why her house looked like a hanging top,” 
exclaimed the boy. “But I should think that her rooms 
would be awfully dark and stuffy. Aren’t they?” 

“To be sure they are not as cheery as mine,” said Mrs. 
Rust Red, “but how could they be under the circum- 
stances? They suit Cousin, however, so that is all that 
is necessary. Her children all seem to thrive, too.” 

“S-sh. Here comes Mrs. Wasp back again,” warned 
the boy. “She might be angry at me again if she knew 
that I was talking about her house.” 

“So she might, but as it happens it is not the Mrs. 
Wasp you met at all but a mutual cousin of ours, Mrs. 
Vespa. She is the one whose feelings I told you to be 
sure and not injure. I know her by the yellow bands 
upon her coat. And she is shorter and stouter than my 
neighbor.” 

“But I thought you said the touchy one was Mrs. 
Hornet,” exclaimed the boy confused. 

“Mrs. Vespa and Mrs. Hornet are one and the same. 
In fact, now that I think of it the first Mrs, Wasp’s 
family name is Vespa, too. I don’t wonder at your 
being all mixed up,” said Mrs. Rust Red. Then she 
greeted the new comer affectionately. 

“Hello Cousin, how are you?” called she. “So glad 
you have at last found time to run over and see me.” 

“Well, I can only stay for a few moments,” declared 
Mrs. Hornet. “Hello there ! I see you have a stranger 
with you, and a Boy as I am alive ! Hmm ! I am afraid 
that my call is to be even shorter than I thought. I 
can’t tell my private business before a stranger and a 
Human in the bargain.” 

“I was just going, Mrs. Hornet,” said Peter quickly. 
“Good-by, Mrs. Rust Red. You have been lovely to me 
and if I may I will come to see you again some time.” 
Before his astonished hostess could say a word he had 
clambered from the branch on which hung her nest -and 
was hastily climbing down the tree. 


IN MEADOWLAND 


323 


CLI 

A WORD IN TIME 

It was a very much easier trip down the tree than it 
had been up and Peter made no stops until he reached 
the ground, even though he plainly heard Mrs, Rust 
Red calling him to come back. If the truth must be 
told his pride had been hurt by Mrs. Hornet’s remarks 
and his one desire was to get as far away from the dis- 
agreeable lady’s company as he possibly could. To make 
a bad matter worse on his last lap down the trunk he 
scraped his shin on a rough piece of bark. Limping over 
to a grassy spot he flung himself down to rest upon the 
soft cool sward. 

“That’s an end to my trying to make friends with the 
Wasps,” exclaimed he. “I have always heard that the 
best thing we Humans could do would be to let them 
alone. To be sure, Mrs. Rust Red was all right but she 
lives near her cousin and there is no telling at what 
moment she might be influenced by the latter. I felt un- 
comfortable every minute I was with her. But when it 
comes to being down right rude Mrs. Hornet takes the 
cake. She is to blame for my having hurt my leg. If 
I had not been hurrying so to get away from her I would 
never have done it. Hateful, horrid old thing!” 

The words came tumbling over each other pretty fast 
and Peter was so busy nursing his wound that he did not 
notice that he had company. An insect had come up 
beside him and as she listened to what he was saying 
her wings twitched with anger. 

“Zzzzzz,” buzzed the newcomer who was slender 
and graceful and wore a very handsome coat of black 
trimmed with bright yellow. “What is this you are say- 
ing? No stranger can talk about my relatives as you are 
doing and not suffer for it. The fact that none of us can 
agree among ourselves has nothing to do with the mat- 
ter. I have a good mind to paralyze you.” 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


3H 

Startled, Peter sprang to his feet and only just in 
time to dodge the creature who, to his horror tried to 
fling herself upon him but, missing, fell to the ground 
at his side. A small sapling stood in the midst of the 
grass plot and in the twinkling of an eye the boy had 
placed it between himself and the enemy, who infuriated 
at her first failure was rushing full tilt at him again. 

“Wait a moment, Madam, please do,” begged he. 
“If you must attack me wait until I can at least tell you 
how beautiful you are.” 

Wise Boy. Not for nothing had he visited in Insect- 
land. He had learned that a word of flattery worked 
wonders with the little people. And sure enough, just 
as he had hoped, the angry insect stopped short, and 
proudly surveyed herself. 

“So even you realize how lovely I am,” said she. 
“Lucky for you that you do. I may decide to spare 
you, for such a truthful fellow is not met with every 
da;y. Most of my acquaintances are 1 too jealous to 
admit that I am handsome.” 

“Well you are, very,” continued Peter. “Is that the 
reason why you travel so well armed? I see that your 
hind legs are bristling with sharp points, — they look just 
like the teeth of a saw. Who are you anyhow and why 
should you wish to paralyze me? Surely it is bad enough 
for me to have to hobble along, — I hurt my leg climbing 
down the tree, but it would be terrible not to be able 
to walk at all! Who knows what might happen to me 
then!” 


CLII 


DIGGER WASP WEAVES A SPELL 

Loud and long laughed the new comer, then. 

“Ha ha! Hee hee ! Walk again, well I should say 
not! I would take good care that you should never even 
move. What would happen to you? Tee tee! Why, 
my babies would eat you alive. I am Digger Wasp, — to 


IN MEADOWLAND 


325 

my friends but if you wish to be real polite you will call 
me Mrs. Pompilida. That is a name to be feared in 
Insect-land. If you don’t believe it ask the spiders and 
the caterpillars and the cicadas. Only be sure that I 
am not around when you talk to them. Ha! Ha!” 

“Good gracious! Another wasp!” exclaimed Peter 
under his breath. “She heard me talking against Mrs. 
Hornet and that is why she was so mad. What on earth 
can I say to make her forget it? I have no wish to 
make a dinner for her children.” 

“What did you say?” demanded Mrs. Digger Wasp 
threateningly. “It is not polite to talk to yourself, you 
know.” 

“I was only just remarking what a jolly person you 
are,” said the boy hastily, and telling, it is to be feared, 
a dreadful fib. “You are fond of a good joke, aren’t 
you ?” 

“Of course I am, except when it is on me,” remarked 
the other. “And I should like to see any one try to 
fool me! Come on out from behind that sapling. I will 
not hurt you, but I do want to see what you look like. 
Am I mistaken or have you only two legs? I thought 
I saw wings flapping as you ran.” 

“You are right about the legs, but I am sorry to say 
that I haven’t any wings at all, Mrs. Pompilida,” de- 
clared Peter but the wasp contradicted him crossly. 

“No wings! Fiddlesticks! Don’t you try to make a 
joke at my expense, young fellow. Can’t I see with 
my own eyes that you have two flappers, — stiff and ugly 
to be sure, but still wings. There, didn’t you just brush 
your face with one of them.” 

“Oh you mean my arms,” laughed the boy. “We 
Humans call them that you know.” 

“By my sting!” exclaimed Digger Wasp. “I know 
there was something strange about you and now I have 
it. You are a Human. I’ll bet that you are as hard 
as a watermelon seed. How glad I am now that I 
didn’t try to paralyze you. I might have broken my 
stinger in your side and without a doubt you would have 


326 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

given my babies indigestion. But something tells me 
that I am not going to be disappointed. Unless I am 
very much mistaken my prey is near.” Something was 
most certainly affecting Digger Wasp queerly. Running 
around in circles in front of Peter her steps became more 
and more jerky and her wings twitched constantly. She 
began to cry in a sing-song tone : 

“Wes wo wider, I smell the blood of a spider.” 


Peter could not make sense out of the words that 
Digger Wasp was chanting and he thought that he must 
have misunderstood them. 

“What are you saying?” called he, but Mrs. Pompilida 
didn’t wish to be interrupted and said so. 

“Don’t speak to me again,” cried she. “Keep your 
ears open and you will hear what I am saying. I am 
weaving a charm that never fails. And you shall see 
what you shall see.” Then she began to chant an- 
other ditty: 

“Oh spider, spider, come this way 
No choice have you but to obey.” 


CLIII 

THE SHOCK THAT SETTLED SPIDER 

Not for a moment did Peter believe that there really 
was a spider anywhere in the neighborhood. If he had, 
remembering good old Sam, he would have done his 
best to keep any of his friend’s relatives out of the 
cannibal’s clutches. He had peered carefully about and 
there wasn’t a sign of another insect, so he didn’t take 
a bit of stock in Digger Wasp’s incantations but watched 
her, much amused. So comical did she look prancing 
about before him that it was all he could do to keep from 
laughing aloud. Suddenly, however, Mrs. Digger Wasp’s 
whole manner changed. She stopped circling around and 
around and stood perfectly still without making a sound, 


IN MEADOWLAND 


327 

her head held high in the air as if she was listening to 
something. 

Then suddenly out spread her wings and off she flew 
a little way and then, looking in the direction in which 
she was going the boy caught sight of a fat spider slowly 
crawling towards him. But he made the discovery too 
late to warn the poor chap. In a second Mrs. Digger 
Wasp had dropped down upon him, he all unaware of 
the danger hovering above his head, had unsheathed 
her sting and plunged it deep into his body and not once 
but twice. The victim struggled to escape, but it was 
no use. In shorter time than it takes to tell it the poison 
from Mrs. Digger Wasp’s sting had taken effect and un- 
lucky Mr. Spider was made perfectly helpless. He 
couldn’t even wiggle a claw. 

As the boy watched, horrified, around whizzed Mrs. 
Digger Wasp and straddled Mr. Spider’s body and as 
Peter wondered what in the wide world she was going to 
do next, she started to run backward, dragging her prey 
with her. 

Now Mr. Spider was six times larger than Mrs. Dig- 
ger Wasp, and in spite of the disgust that the boy felt 
for her deed he could not help but admire the clever 
way in which she handled it. She seemed so strong 
and so quick. He was curious too to find out what was 
going to become of the unlucky spider; and so he ran 
after Mrs. Digger Wasp as fast as his legs would carry 
him. Then for the first time he noticed a small hole in 
the side of a sandy hummock not far off and it was for 
this hole that Mrs. Digger Wasp was making a bee-line. 
Just before she reached it up she rose into the air, hold- 
ing Mr. Spider tight with her pincers and just as Peter 
reached the spot down into the hole she dropped, with 
Mr. Spider on top of her. 

The boy leaned down and peered over the edge and he 
was quite sure that he heard a groan. 

“What is the matter, Digger Wasp?’’ cried he. “Did 
you hurt yourself? I should think that there would be 
nothing left of Mr. Spider !” 


PETER’S ADVENTURES 


328 

“Oh, you needn’t worry about him,” cried Digger 
Wasp crossly. “He is so fat that no fall could injure 
him. He will serve his purpose very well and will make 
fine food for my babies until they hatch out. I believe 
that I have broken my wing. Ooh ! How it hurts ! 
No, thank goodness I haven’t either. It is only strained 
a bit. Now I am going to lay my eggs in fat Spider 
here and I must make haste or some thief will come along 
and spoil my plans. It will not take me long. You 
can wait up there if you like.” 

CLIV 

ALL FOR THE SAKE OF THE CHILDREN 

Now Peter had taken a great dislike to Digger Wasp, 
although he did think that she was one of the wisest 
insects that he had yet met. He was very curious to 
find out who in the world would ever try to upset the 
plans of so determined a creature, so he made up his 
mind to ask her a few more questions when she came out 
from her den. And he did not have long to wait. In 
a very short while up she came, but she seemed very 
weary and no longer did her wings twitch, but lay limp 
and draggled at her side. 

“There, I have done my duty, Boy,” said she. “I am 
tired to death, but at least I have one thing to be thank- 
ful for. No sneak-thief got the better of me.” 

“Would you mind telling me what you mean by that?” 
asked the boy. “Do you mean that after you had killed 
Mr. Spider, some insect would try to take him away?” 

“Paralyzed, my dear boy, not killed,” corrected Mrs. 
Digger Wasp wearily. “Spider is as much alive as. ever 
he was. If he was not, do you think that I would 
leave him down in my den? It would not be healthy 
for my babies. You see this is the way of it. Many 
wasps live on fruit juices and honey, but some of us 
must have fresh meat and so we capture insects, paralyze 


IN MEADOWLAND 


329 

them so that they must lie still and take them to our 
homes, — not to eat then ourselves but to lay our eggs in 
them. You see, when our babies hatch into larvae they 
don’t have to worry their tiny heads about getting 
enough to eat, — they have it right with them all the 
time. And as they devour it, it gives them strength 
and it lasts them until the time comes for them to be- 
come perfect wasps. There are some insects though 
that are too mean to go out and do the capturing for 
themselves, although they need fresh meat on which to 
deposit their eggs exactly as much as we do. They just 
sneak around and when they see a capture made, if we 
are not looking they sneak up and lay their eggs in our 
victim before we can have a chance to. That is why I 
dared not leave Spider for a second. If I had had more 
time I might have gotten him into the hole without 
hurting myself. However, whatever I did and suffered 
was for the sake of the children. And they are worth 
any sacrifice. Now if you will excuse me I think that 
I will run along. I must rest and I know of a shady 
spot not far away. Good-by, Boy. And next time we 
meet let it be as friends.” 

With a wave of her antennas off flew clever little Mrs. 
Digger Wasp, and Peter actually was sorry to have her 
leave. 

“I thought at first that she was the crudest and most 
cowardly insect in the land, but I rather like her, now,” 
said he half-aloud. Now that I think of it, the reason 
that Fly becomes a sneak-thief is for the sake of her 
children. My, how the insects do work and plan for 
their little ones and sometimes they, die for them, too ! 
Nothing else seems to count, except making it possible 
for the babies to become strong and clever and skillful 
so that they too in their turn may be able to work for 
and protect their children.” 

“Dear Spirit of the Old Oak Tree! How glad I am 
that it taught me the magic of the words “Watch! 
Listen!” I would never have even guessed that there 
were carpenters, and paper hangers, and architects, and 


330 PETER’S ADVENTURES 

bridge builders, and nurses, and caterers, and goodness 
knows what not down here in Insect-land. Why, the 
creepers and crawlers and flyers are not stupid at all. 
They are just as wise as we are! Won’t the fellows 
be surprised when I tell them!” 





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